Contra Mundum
by Cafei
Summary: Transformers AU. Decepticons have spread through the universe, conquering and plundering. Autobot forces are stretched far too thin, and they cannot save everyone...
1. The World That Is

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Transformers. All recognizable characters are the property of HasTak. All unrecognizable ones are the intellectual property of yours truly; their theft is punishable by severe voodoo-induced pain in any and all sensitive organs of the body, followed by eternal damnation.

Because, you know, stealing is wrong. (Which is funny because I totally ganked this disclaimer from Vaeru, with her permission of course.)**  
**

* * *

**Rated:** T. For mild cursing, violence, and other adult themes that will probably ensue. 

**Author Notes:** Alright, this is my first fanfiction ever. If you could see my face right now you'd see the "deer-in-headlights" look. A big big thanks to Vaeru who has been so kind and encouraging to me!

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**Contra Mundum **

**Chapter One**

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_"I laugh in the face of danger. Then I hide until it goes away."_

_**-Xander, The Witch**__  
_

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David lay with his back on the hard concrete, huddled into as small a ball he could manage, trying desperately to be very still, barely breathing. Even his heartbeat seemed abnormally loud in the close, tense air, not that the long sliver of metal held close over his form made the tension any lighter. He was so closely pressed beneath the four-inch thick, curved metal frame that he could taste his own sweat in the air. It did not taste good; it reminded him of salty sea-air that had been bottled up for far too long. Dirt-smudged fingers gripped the pitiful shield mercilessly, trying frantically to keep still. Adrenaline forced its way through unwilling veins, causing his extremities to tremor dangerously, threatening to reveal his hapless presence. 

A stray and rather large pebble made its presence painfully clear by jabbing between David's shoulder blades. Heat emanated from the pavement underneath him; it reflected all the energy it had absorbed from the mid-day Texas sun into his clothes and bare skin. Sweat pooled under the small of his back, making him want to squirm and tear his own skin off until all of the filth and sweat lay smeared across the asphalt.

His attention was drawn away from his discomfort momentarily when he heard a very distinct _boom boom_... the sound of metal meeting concrete, a telltale sign of one of _them_. It was looking for him, he knew, and it was closer than he would have liked it to be. As typical of summers in the state of Texas, the weather had become unbearably hot and muggy, and there had been no activity in weeks. David had become sloppy. He mentally cursed himself for his own sloth, for it might just now cost him his life.

David dared to take a quick peek from beneath his protective lead-coated metal shield to see which one of the bastards had come looking for him. He mentally cursed again when his eyes were greeted with white and blue-green metal.

_Of course I get the schizophrenic one. Because God forbid anything be easy…_ David thought bitterly to himself.

The distinctive white and blue-green metal gleaming back at him beneath his sorry excuse for a hiding place meant that this Stunticon was most likely not going anywhere until it either found David and stamped him to death or smashed everything David might be hiding under... or around... or behind... or even anything that was too small for him to even hope to possibly fit under. Hell, it might just blast everything within a five-mile radius just to be sure.

Funny that even giant alien robots could be as obsessive-compulsive as humans sometimes. Or, at the very least, this one was.

Even from where David lay, he could hear the mechanical whirring and shifting of cogs and gears from within the being's mechanical frame. If David remembered correctly, this one called itself 'Breakdown.'

_Who comes up with these names?_ a more immature part of David's mind thought absently. That same part of his mind quickly shut itself up when the Decepticon suddenly ripped a streetlight right out of the pavement and tore it to shreds, metal shrieking as it was bent in ways it was never meant to bend, bits of asphalt flying off in random directions.

If it were possible, David cringed more under his small shelter as pieces of rock and asphalt pelted his shield. The giant metal monster threw the remnants of the ravaged streetlight to the ground, whipping his orange face this way and that, constantly scanning and re-scanning. This guy was not playing around.

"_Breakdown, what the slag are you doing?" _asked an exasperated voice over an external communication link, resonating from somewhere on or within the white and blue-green mech.

"It had lights on it. I don't like it when there's lights," came Breakdown's fevered answer, all the while still whipping around in random directions like hound that caught the scent of a fox. "My scanner blipped a minute ago too," he added.

A sigh sounded over the communication link. _"Does it really matter?"_ the voice asked, the sound of fatigue evident, as though it really didn't even want to bother asking.

"It means there's a fleshling around here somewhere, and I'm not leaving until I find it. That's what we were ordered to do anyways isn't it?" demanded the jittery, now-irritated Stunticon.

"_It is, but if it's just one fleshling I don't think it really matters. It'll be dead soon anyways if it's within the city. Besides, we're supposed to be looking for big groups of them for now. Motormaster's going to angry with you for wasting time trying to find just one human when there are others elsewhere using up resources," _reasoned the voice half-heartily. If David didn't know any better, he'd think the voice sounded like it didn't really care in the long run of what Breakdown was supposed to be doing or not.

"Where there's one, there's bound to be more, Dead End. There _always_ are," hissed Breakdown back over the communication link.

The fact that they communicated out loud for the all the world to hear them amused David a bit. Anyone within a mile radius could hear these guys talking, but that also meant they were confident that no human could hide from them, not for very long anyway. It was their way of flaunting their presence and the power they held over what was left of the human race. The human's amusement quickly evaporated with the passing of that last thought.

Not for the first time in the last few moments, David wished he could check to see the battery life of his scrambler. In such tense and close circumstances, he could not remove the small device from behind his ear to see. He had already risked enough by raising the protective metal panel to get a peek at Breakdown. Now he couldn't lower it back down lest Breakdown detect the movement, small though it would have been. He could only sit and hope his scrambler didn't die. As long as it functioned, his body would be spared detection by Breakdown's multiple scanners.

Of course, that only meant that the Decepticon could no longer sense or scan him, but he still had eyes (or "optics" as he so often heard them referred to) and he could still use them. The metal panel with its lead-based coating currently serving as his shield would provide some protection from the Decepticon's many sensors, but not like his scrambler did.

A giant metal foot stepped closer, crunching stray rubble and rocks underneath it into dust. The ground vibrated, making the pebble in his back dig deeper in between his already aching shoulder blades. The foot was so close that David could reach out and touch it…Oh God, what did the battery life read last time he checked his scrambler? Was it at three-fourths? Or was it at half-life? Oh no, was it at less than half? Or was that yesterday? If only he could just reach those few inches and check.

The young man was sure he was shaking so badly now that it wouldn't matter if his scrambler died or not. Surely the ruthless Stunticon less than two feet away from him would notice his pitiful body shivering underneath the curved panel-like sheet of metal any moment now. He'd probably be shaking less if he could just check his freaking scrambler! The air seemed to be suffocating him now, and the damn pebble was _still_ jabbing him in the back! Oh, God. Oh, God…

"_Breakdown!"_ Like a gunshot, Dead End's voice interrupted the silence that had unexpectedly yet briefly fallen. David could not control the spasm that wracked his body, but it went unnoticed as Breakdown did the same thing, the giant's foot nearly crashing down right on top of the human.

"What?!" Breakdown screamed into his end of the communication link. It seemed that Dead End had irritated him already with his incessant nagging and fatalism

A different voice answered Breakdown's agitated response. This voice was deep and terrifying. David recognized it almost instantly.

"_Get off your aft and get back to work or I'll come down there myself!"_ barked Motormaster's voice through the link. David watched in fascination as the Stunticon jerked and suddenly became very rigid as if his commanding officer were right there in front of him. Even the other Stunticons were afraid of this guy!

"Y-yes, sir," was Breakdown's subdued response.

With that, he transformed into his alternate mode and sped away down what was left of Pearl Street in downtown Dallas. David remained under his makeshift haven for a long time even after the Stunticon had long gone. He had already screwed up once, and he wasn't going to be caught with his pants down twice in the same day.

An hour passed. Then another. Finally after what felt like forever, he slowly uncurled himself from under his temporary shelter and surveyed his surroundings. He waited another ten minutes before getting up, the joints in his legs and the disks of his spine aching and creaking in protest after being tensed up for so long in one position.

There was an intense pain from where the pebble had been stabbing him; surely it would leave an impressive bruise. He kicked the pebble, returning the favor, smiling triumphantly. His ratty hair stuck out in every direction, the most underneath part drenched with sweat and sticking to the back of his neck along with dirt and grime acquired from the pavement.

He didn't hesitate any longer; he ran to the nearest manhole, pried back the heavy metal hood and dropped down into the sewers. His sweat-slicked skin welcomed the drastic decrease in temperature, even though the air was as stuffy and musty as it had been under his shield. The sewers had long since dried up, only sparse puddles of muddy water remained. Every now and then a window of eroded road offered the blue sky above, sunlight poking through to reveal thick and numerous dust particles dancing in the air. Leftover rubble such as concrete and abandoned pipes littered the long unused underground tunnels, hindering any sort of navigation or movement considerably.

The young human paused to peel back his scrambler from behind his ear; a small egg-shaped black computer chip. The battery life read half-life. David sighed with relief, then hitched up his metal shield and continued his well-memorized path through the underground maze. Breakdown had prevented him from finding supplies today, but he still had another day to scrounge up food and medical supplies before the next group of refugees came through. He had a lot to do before tomorrow evening.

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**Author Notes Continued: **Contra Mundum- _"Against the World"_


	2. Simple Pleasures

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Transformers. All recognizable characters are the property of HasTak. All unrecognizable ones are the intellectual property of yours truly; their theft is punishable by severe voodoo-induced pain in any and all sensitive organs of the body, followed by eternal damnation. I do not own any of the companies or medications mentioned in this chapter nor am I endorsing them.

Because, you know, stealing is wrong. (Which is funny because I totally ganked this disclaimer from Vaeru, with her permission of course.)**  
**

* * *

**Rated:** T. For mild cursing, violence, and other adult themes that will probably ensue. 

**Author Notes:** Thanks to everyone for your kind words and reviews on my first chapter! Now, I apologize for the slow update but I'm an artist, not a writer. So my updates will probably always be pretty slow. But, I'm going on vacation for a week tomorrow and I thought I'd get this chapter out before I go.

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**Contra Mundum **

**Chapter Two**

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_You start out depressed, everything turns out a pleasant surprise._

_**-Lloyd, ****Say Anything**_

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David had never really considered himself a religious person. Even after enduring what essentially was the apocalypse, he still never found any solace in religion. 

He remembered as a young boy before the invasion, standing in the quiet church pews, grasping his mother's cool and comforting hand. He remembered hearing the church parishioners recite hymns in soft, monotonous voices. He remembered the colored light filtering in from the stained-glass windows lining the nave of the church, playing across people's faces and clothes.

But most of all, he remembered his paranoia. Why did God feel the need to always watch people? Did he not have a life?

Right now, David was being very religious; screaming, ranting, and raving every curse word he knew and placing 'God' at the beginning of every single one. He also took it upon himself to invent some new ones.

The day had not started well. Thick clouds had rolled in overhead with the promise of coming rain. While it was nice to be spared the blistering summer heat, it also blocked out the morning sun. The result being that the young man over slept.

He had meant to be up at dawn so he could travel further outside of city limits for supplies. Most of downtown had been reduced to rubble fifteen years ago, and what was left was slowly succumbing to the ravages of time to join the rest of the once great city. The outskirts, however, were not so devastated and still provided valuable resources.

But, having overslept, David would not be able to travel so far, gather materials, and be back before the next group of refugees arrived. And without him being there to lead them to his underground haven, they would be sitting ducks.

He had known they would be coming for some time now, and it wasn't the fact that they were that was bothering him. He had been doing this a long time now; human refugees passed through on their way to the safety of the Rocky Mountains from more devastated areas. Dallas served as one of many resting points between the Gulf Coast and the mountains. People who came through, especially from the coast, needed rest and supplies before continuing on, and that's where David came in. He provided shelter, food, water, and any other supplies refugees might need. His outpost was a safe point, a haven. Of course over time, he'd had to travel farther and farther, and supplies became harder and harder to find…

What did bother him was that usually these groups of refugees came in groups of ten to fifteen people. That was fine; he had the accommodations for that many people. He had received a message two hours ago that this group had twice that many. His haven down in the sewers could not hold that many people, so he had spent the better part of his day, after taking the time to actually decipher the encrypted message, cleaning surrounding pipes and tunnels for people to stay in as well as find twice as much food and water.

And not only were there more people than expected, but apparently one unlucky soul suffered hyperglycemia and required insulin.

"That CVS better have some damn insulin…" David growled through clenched teeth.

It had taken him the rest of his day to get to the only CVS left in the city, and it wasn't in the best condition. Half of it had given in to time and collapsed in on itself. Of course, the side that collapsed was the half of the store that contained canned food, bottled water, and the candy David had been so fond of.

Removing the manhole cover from its place imbedded in the asphalt, David fought the urge to shoot his head out and draw a deep breath of fresh, non-musty air. Instead, he slowly and cautiously poked his head out, squinting his eyes against the harsh and blinding daylight. He did not want a repeat of yesterday's fiasco; his back certainly would not be able to take it.

The trek to West Mockingbird Lane had taken longer than he had expected. Another tunnel had collapsed in the weeks that had passed, and David's curved metal shield that had once belonged to a Decepticon's leg armor weighed him down like it always did. There was also a fist-sized bruised that had swelled in the middle of his back, making the already heavy shield harder to carry.

Gingerly, David pulled the rest of his form out from the hole in the street, remaining crouched on all fours. Wide eyes darted in every direction, taking in all the information possible. It was unlikely that another Decepticon would make an appearance since yesterday, but there were other dangers in the world aside from giant, hostile, alien robots.

Even with the cloud cover, the afternoon heat bore down on him, making his body feel heavy and burning his lungs with every breath he drew of the simmering and sticky air. On top of that, the strong heat seemed to make him more aware of the aching in his back.

A minute passed, and nothing happened. Concluding that it was safe enough to continue, the human darted across what was left of the crumbling street, keeping as low to the ground as possible without skidding across it. His shield scraped loudly across the pavement. So much for stealth…

The door to the once bustling CVS was no longer in its place. But a large hole in the far west corner served as one just as nicely. Carefully avoiding piles of rubble and glass, and at the same time traversing the minefield that with every step threatened to send a jagged piece of glass through his worn boots, David slowly made a path to where the pharmacy once stood.

Hopping over the dusty counter, David saw many white plastic racks and shelves offering a variety of prescriptions, all of them covered in a fine layer of dust. Some were standing upright and untouched, while others lay on the floor with their contents littering the ground. These pills were for hypothyroidism…those were for clinical depression. David couldn't help but smirk at that last one.

A thought suddenly occurred in David's mind; what did insulin look like exactly? Was he looking for a pill or a drink? He had never received any medical training or even had anything related explained to him. His medical knowledge only extended as far to know that one needed sustenance to survive and blood was supposed to stay in the body. He found the latter harder to do these days.

He crouched to the floor and began sifting through the sea of pills and bottles. Some had bizarre names, others had two bizarre names combined, and most he couldn't even pronounce. What the hell was Enzyte? Or Spironolactone? Did any of these even remotely treat hyperglycemia?

Several minutes passed and he was quickly getting nowhere. He might have even picked up insulin and put it down, not knowing what it was. And the sun was beginning to set; the refugees might already be waiting for him and it would not be wise to leave them stranded in the dark. He needed to approach this conundrum differently and quickly.

A box sat underneath the counter tucked away in a cubby, under what once was a fully functioning cash register. David seized it and tore it open viciously. His eyes were greeted with pristine pamphlets and brochures of many different medications, every single one naming a different drug and its purpose. They still smelled of freshly printed paper and ink. He smiled; this would make this go much quicker…

An hour, three boxes of pamphlets, and a considerable amount of cursing later, David came across a small brochure describing a drug called "Apidra", with the words "Insulin Glulisine [rDNA origin Injection" written underneath big blue letters. A sigh of much needed relief escaped David's tired body and he began looking for the described vial. He was very tired now. His neck ached from constantly looking down, and grimy sweat smeared his vision. But with salvation from playing "hide and seek" with medication in sight, he found himself a little more energized.

It took only a few moments to locate the little bottle of clear fluid. There was only one bottle to be found, but it should be enough to get the afflicted refugee to the next safe point where there would be proper medical supplies.

The brochure also recommended using syringes marked for "U-100 insulin", and while the thought of using a syringe or even carrying one made the young man cringe a little, he soon found said needles and was happily jumping back over the barrier and heading towards the exit of the one-time convenience store.

David was just about to pass through the exit when something small and shimmering in the afternoon sun caught his eye. Instinctively, the human quickly lowered himself to the ground, ducking behind a particularly large piece of rubble. Peeping back over the side, he saw a small piece of plastic wrapping paper glimmering back at him from under what once was the checkout counter.

Is that…? No, it couldn't be…

Cautiously, David crept over the rubble, disbelief slowing his every step. He even dropped his ever-precious shield. He feared to look away or even blink, lest the object disappear forever into an alternate dimension. Closer and closer he crept, eyes uncomprehending the little brown wrapper in front of them.

I thought I had found them all. How could I have missed one? Surely it isn't…IT IS!

The human lunged at the small object like a hungry wolf, tearing it from under the remains of the counter and holding it up in the air like a holy relic, hardly believing what was grasped tightly in his boney fist.

"A Snickers bar!" David gasped in almost complete and utter rapture.

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**Author Notes Continued: **I tried to make this as realistic as possible, if any part of it just seems completely outrageous or ridiculous, feel free to call me on it. I'll probably edit this chapter later and rid it of any grammar problems.  



	3. All That's Left

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Transformers. All recognizable characters are the property of HasTak. All unrecognizable ones are the intellectual property of yours truly; their theft is punishable by severe voodoo-induced pain in any and all sensitive organs of the body, followed by eternal damnation. I do not own any of the companies or medications mentioned in this chapter nor am I endorsing them.

Because, you know, stealing is wrong. (Which is funny because I totally ganked this disclaimer from Vaeru, with her permission of course.)**  
**

* * *

**Rated:** T. For mild cursing, violence, and other adult themes that will probably ensue. 

**Author Notes:** Oh man sorry for the long period between updates. I'm back from my much needed vacation now and feeling fine. School's started so probably after this week updates will be pretty slow. I'm gonna try and get another chapter out sometime this weekend.

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**Contra Mundum **

**Chapter Three**

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_Great. I'm in the worst place in the world and I'm not even being paid for it._

_**-Dr.Grant, ****Jurassic Park 3  
**_

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It started raining halfway back to the hideout, not much to David's surprise. It was now twilight outside, but with the thick storm clouds it seemed more like night had already descended on the dilapidated city. David ran along the sides of the streets, trying as best he could to remain out of plain view as much as possible, hopping into bushes and scurrying passed fallen trees but remaining close to the street.

Ordinarily, the young man would have just dropped into the sewers and proceeded with relative ease back to his underground haven, but with such heavy ran falling, it surely was not wise to traverse the underground maze. Without anyone to maintain the sewers' mechanisms, they had become prone to flooding. Most of the areas around his hideout that he had spent that morning cleaning were probably flooded now, too.

David set aside the dilemma of squishing thirty refugees onto the small raised platform that was his home for later. For now, he was actually enjoying the cool rain on his skin. Unfortunately, his shield prevented any water from reaching and cleansing his back and most of his left shoulder of sweat and dirt, but it did reach his face. Several times he opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue to catch water droplets as they fell carefree to earth, just as he had done when he was a boy. It gave his heart a much needed uplifting.

The human kept a steady but quick pace. He knew that while he was enjoying the cool rain, the refugees certainly would not be. They were surely there waiting for him by now, but they could hardly blame him. If he had not been surprised with thirty-some odd refugees, he would not have had to spend so long looking for supplies, not counting all the fun he had looking for insulin.

By the time he made it back into downtown and down to the main entrance to the safe point, night had fully descended. Fifteen years ago the streets would have been alight with thousands of streetlights and cars moving to and fro. Now, there was only darkness aided by the absence of the moon. It was incredibly hard and frustrating to maneuver around broken glass, metal, and rubble, and he dared not to use his flashlight or a torch.

Upon first glance, there seemed to be no one around the manhole that led to the tunnel outside the commons area of the safe point, but David knew better. He reached behind his ear and turned the frequency of his scrambler up and down three times, each time letting loose a faint screech. It was the universal "all clear" signal.

Shortly after the third screech, once lifeless piles of rubble and debris began to shift and move. Slowly, twenty-three large pieces of wreckage and curved metal stood up, each revealing a sodden and dirt covered human. They all varied in height and features, but most were either around David's age or appeared to be in their late forties. All of them bore an expression of sheer misery. One gentleman, older than the rest, was bent slightly forwards and panting. He was having trouble holding up his own shield. David guessed that he was the unlucky one suffering from hyperglycemia.

He noticed there were two children present in the group and frowned. One was a boy who appeared to be in his late teens, the other a girl who could not have been older than eight. David practically glared at her; he did not favor children much. Children cried and screamed. Children drew attention. Attention got people killed.

A familiar face strode forward, stopping just a few feet from David, a heavy-set man with bushy dark hair that appeared to stem to become part of the darkness surrounding them, even in the rain. David smiled at him, but the man did not smile back.

"Jeb," David said overly-jubilantly; he knew it would annoy the man. He expected a glare in return, or at the very least, an attempted swat to the head, but the larger man offered nothing; he simply gazed back at him with tired eyes. The thinner and younger man peered over the other's shoulder, back at the small crowd of refugees.

"Whatever happened to thirty huh? You don't know how much trouble I went through to get everything ready for them," he said sourly when he got no response.

It was then that David saw the redness in his friend's eyes, and instantly he realized how much of an ass he just made of himself. His body stiffened and he quickly lowered his head, ashamed of his callousness. David may not have been the reddest apple in the barrel, but it wasn't hard for him to put two-and-two together.

In the awkward silence that fell, David crouched down and removed the heavy manhole cover. Jeb descended first, and after a hurried wave from David, the other refugees began to descend down the rusted metal rungs of the sewer ladder. He never said anything to them as they went down. He didn't tell them to be careful. He didn't tell them to mind each other as they went down. He didn't even look at them. He just sat and waited patiently as one by one, they disappeared beneath the surface of the drenched and still hot concrete.

After the last refugee had vanished into the inky blackness of the manhole, David began his own descent. Careful to not step on the heads of anyone below, he hopped off the last few rungs to the slimy concrete below. He slipped, of course, but was lucky enough to be caught by another young man who appeared to be around the same age as him. David nodded a quick thank you to him before righting himself and navigating to the front of the crowd.

Jeb was standing at the front, holding a flashlight to illuminate the narrow tunnel. Water trickled down along the walls, reflecting the bright artificial light in sparkles that danced all across the walls and ceiling. David lit his own flashlight and silently led the way to the commons area.

The commons area was really the center of an old hub with five smaller tunnels branching off around the south end room. The machines that had once been housed there had been cleared away and replaced with a raised octagonal concrete platform for protection from floodwater. On one end of the raised platform were rows of fifteen cots lined close to each other. On the other end were stacks of towels, pillows, blankets, canteens, and buckets.

To the east end of the commons area, there was another smaller platform. It held a lumpy black and squeaking generator with many worn wires connected to it. The wires traveled up the wall, held there by an impressive amount of duct tape, and into harsh fluorescent lights on the ceiling as well as disappearing down into abyss of surrounding tunnels.

Metal crates lined the walls. Some held food, some held penicillin, and some held batteries, but most held ammo and explosives. They were not labeled, but David knew each crate's contents by heart. He preferred them to not be labeled: less chance of someone breaking into them.

As David had predicted, there was about two inches of water submerging the floor around the platforms. He groaned; anything not raised would be soaked in the other rooms and tunnels. He jumped up onto the main platform that held the cots, and groaned again when the bruise on his back bit into him with a vengeance. Gritting his teeth, he stood up and faced the crowd of drenched and cheerless faces.

"Welcome to Safe Point; Dallas," he choked out to them. "As you can see, I did not exactly have time to prepare for the weather, so most of you will have to squish together up here tonight. There may be a few dry areas further down the two left tunnels. I'll go set up more cots for you down there. But first…"

He paused to bend down and grab a canteen and bucket. He lifted it up so everyone could get a good look at the two dinged and sorry objects. The bucket looked like it had been kicked off Mt. Everest while the canteen was missing wide chips of paint.

"There is a reservoir of rain water down the second right-hand tunnel. Take the canteens for drinking water and the buckets for washing. The reservoir is this safe point's only source of clean water, which is why you may not use your own canteens and may not clean anything in the reservoir itself. Take your flashlights with you; there are no lights down there. Do your best to not get your hands in the water.

"When you come back, you will be given a cot, a towel, a pillow, and a blanket. I am going to see if there are more dry areas around my quarters. When I've finished, Jeb and I will distribute food and water. Jeb will attend to any medical needs any of you have. Speaking of which…"

David fished the vial of insulin out from one of his many pockets, then the bag of sterile needles from another. He tossed both to Jeb, who caught them after much fevered scrambling and slipping. David couldn't help but smile despite the intense glare he received from the older man. He turned back towards the crowd.

"There is only one rule here: do _not_ steal any of my supplies. I will provide you with any basic you need. This is not a major safe point; I do not have many supplies. I still have to help people after you leave. If anyone is caught stealing anything, I'll throw you up onto the street for a 'Con or a pack of dogs to pick off. This is your _only_ warning." David glared at every face to emphasize his threat. Some looked back at him, some glared back at him, and some turned their gaze down to the floor.

His gaze paused momentarily on the little girl. She had not been looking at him or probably even listening to him since arriving in the commons area, and appeared to be lost. She looked from person to person among the refugees, sometimes standing on her toes to try to see over shoulders, confusion furrowing her brow. He choked again at the sight; he didn't have to guess who she was looking for.

He felt his heart sink low in his chest –not just at the girl's predicament, but at the girl in general. She was young, too young to have known a world before the Decepticons invaded. David at least remembered a time before the invasion, remembered being carefree and safe in his suburban house with his family. He had lived thirteen years of untroubled bliss before the incursion.

This little girl had never seen a day without violent tyranny. She was completely ignorant of any other way of life. She would probably never even know any other way of life, even if she made it to Oasis in the mountains.

He tore his gaze away from her and shook his head as if the act would rid him of such depressing thoughts. He looked over the refugees, who were looking back at him expectantly. He felt his cheeks bloom with warmth and quickly clapped his hands together.

"Alright, everyone line up to get your canteens and buckets!" he shouted a little too loudly. He jumped down and was joined by Jeb. Together, they handed out the buckets and canteens and watched as the refugees disappeared in pairs or in groups of three down the dark tunnel leading to the reservoir. The little girl trailed behind the teenaged boy.

The rest of the night went rather smoothly despite the abnormal amount of people. David was able to make enough room in his own quarters to fit three more cots, and the last five refugees were able to squish up onto the platform with enough room for everyone to sleep comfortably. Food and water had been distributed, and afterwards several refugees set about washing what clothes they had. Some just flat out stripped with no amount of modesty and began to rid themselves of layers of grime. David couldn't blame them; if he had been traveling for days without a shower he would've done the same thing.

Jeb assisted the older man with the insulin before helping him to his cot. He brought him his food, which consisted of mostly heavily preserved meat and bread and water. It very much resembled airline food. Then the large man tended to others who suffered superficial wounds they had received during their trip from the coast. Luckily, no one had anything too serious, mostly just bumps and scratches, but Jeb was not the sort to risk infection with anyone.

While Jeb tended to the refugees, David disappeared down the dark tunnel that lay furthest to the right. A few dying fluorescent lights tried valiantly to illuminate the drab gray tunnel but with little success. It did not matter; the tunnel was not too long, and David knew every inch of it like the back of his hand.

At the end of the tunnel, there was a relatively small room with a raised floor, protecting its contents from the threat of floodwater. Computers, monitors, modems, and television screens littered the far end of the room, illuminating the small area with an eerie glow. Most screens displayed the world outside, different parts of the city from many different angles; the majority focused around what was left of the two buildings that made up the Adam's Mark Hotel. Set upon the floor, a large control panel stretched the span of all the screens, displaying hundreds if not thousands of buttons and switches.

To the left side of the room there sat a small table and chair. Upon the table there was an electric telegraph and next to it was an ancient looking CB Radio. The ground all around the table was peppered with notebooks and papers, all with frantic scribbles that looked almost alien traced all over them. More notebooks and papers sat stacked on the far right side of the room.

When the Decepticons first attacked earth, they disabled worldwide communication. Since then, mankind had struggled to communicate with one another. Long-range communication was virtually impossible now. All information had to be relayed from safe point to safe point manually. Only two methods remained that had not yet been rendered useless or yielded information to the Decepticons: short-range CB radio and Morse code.

Of course, at first the Decepticons had broken Morse code with barely any effort, but over time, humans created code after code, first communicating through the telegraph in Latin, then in Ancient Greek, then both. All codes were now a mish-mash of several languages or codes strung together.

The Decepticons had yet to break these codes, but every day they became wiser, and mankind had to remain a step ahead at all times. The code was in constant flux, and while this kept vital information safe, it created a massive headache for anyone trying to decipher it, even someone trained to do so. It also resulted in grievous misinterpretations, leading to many deaths, but it was the only option humanity had left.

CB radio was sometimes used but only between close safe points, and even then, it was used rarely. It wasn't the safest means of communication, and it was prone to being tapped. Anyone speaking into a CB radio had to speak in code, and since the code was practically impossible to pronounce at times, many didn't bother with it.

David's CB radio had not been used in years. Sometimes it flickered to life but usually as a result of picking up Decepticon interference. During those times, it served as a good alarm system, often picking up Decepticon activity before the cameras strewn about the city did.

With a heavy sigh, David sat down at the table. A piece of paper sat in front of him, half filled with scribbles of a language that would be completely unrecognizable to anyone other than himself. (He didn't have the best handwriting.) He flipped on the telegraph and reluctantly picked up where he left off.

* * *

**Author's Notes Continued:** Sorry, no Decepticon action for this chapter, but trust me, they'll be showing up again.  



	4. Gray Hairs

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Transformers. All recognizable characters are the property of HasTak. All unrecognizable ones are the intellectual property of yours truly; their theft is punishable by severe voodoo-induced pain in any and all sensitive organs of the body, followed by eternal damnation.

Because, you know, stealing is wrong. (Which is funny because I totally ganked this disclaimer from Vaeru, with her permission of course.)**  
**

* * *

**Rated:** T. For mild cursing, violence, and other adult themes that will probably ensue. 

**Author Notes:** Sorry for the late update. I had meant to update sooner but this chapter took a while and then I was gone for the weekend to attend a wedding. Long story short; High heels are the worst invention known to mankind. Again there isn't any Decepticon action in this chapter, but that's all going to change very soon.

* * *

**Contra Mundum **

**Chapter Four**

* * *

_**Quintus**: "People should know when they're conquered."  
**Maximus**: "Would you, Quintus? Would I?"  
**-Gladiator**_

* * *

The obnoxious little red numbers of the dying battery-run clock read two a.m. David rubbed his over-used and tired eyes. He had started writing information at about eight p.m. In total, he had written about sixteen pages in four hours. Periodically having to stop and request clarification in some areas.

At around eleven, he had switched off the telegraph and set about the horribly tedious task of decoding the information he wrote down. It had been two hours and he barely had even a page. Several times he had to consult past notes he had taken a year beforehand. It had all given him a headache that he was almost sure would never go away when he finished, even despite the impressive stock he had of Advil he kept for days like this.

The human yanked at his receding bangs in frustration. All this stress was making him loose his hair at the age of twenty-eight. His head pounded angrily at him, demanding to know why it was being put through so much stress and why he was not letting it sleep. He groaned at it, and in return it pounded even harder at him.

He looked back over what he had decoded. Despite what little he had deciphered, it was not shaping up to be good news…

"You've misspelled almost every word you've written."

David gasped and spun around so fast he fell out of his chair. He landed on the cold stone floor with a thud on his backside that would surely rival the bruise on his back. He had lost himself so much in his concentration that he never heard Jeb splashing noisily down the tunnel to the room that served as the control center. A deep and husky chuckle emanated from the larger man's chest as he offered his hand to the other.

"Well, it's nice to see you're feeling better," David reasoned as he grabbed the other man's large paw. He would've scolded Jeb for scaring the living daylights out of him, but David was too tired to do anything other than wince as he rubbed his backside mournfully. "And I'm a phonetic speller. You already know that."

"Don't I know it, boy. Yer spellin's so bad a damn monkey'd do a better job. Done gone given me my fair share of headaches," answered the man, still chuckling, with his typical thick and lazy country accent.

David himself did not have much of an accent despite having lived most of his life in Texas. Whenever he was angry or extremely tired one would appear. Jeb, on the other hand, was entirely different; he always had a thick drawl and was damn near impossible to understand at times. Oddly enough, though, he could write like a poet. It was one of those little oddities in life that David had always found entertaining.

After sending a brief smile, acknowledging that a monkey probably could indeed do a better job than David, he nodded towards the tunnel that lead to the commons area.

"Everyone ok?" he asked cautiously. Jeb waved his concern off.

"Yea yea. They'll be fine fer now. We'll need ta leave tomorrow evenin'. Mr. Thompson's in bad shape, he needs more insulin. Mrs. Eliez's sick with somethin' too," he answered with a long and heavy yawn. David frowned in return.

"Tomorrow evening? I don't think that's going to work. There's been a huge increase in Decepticon activity lately because of-"

"Hurricane season. Yea, I know. They're harvestin' the energy from the storms again. I told ya we were comin' from the coast."

David pulled his chair out from under the small table and carefully set it out for Jeb while avoiding the notes scattered about the floor. The larger human accepted it gratefully and sat down with a sigh of relief while David took a seat upon the cool concrete floor.

"Yes, but you never said where exactly. Where'd you come from then? Not Galveston, I hope."

Jeb practically jumped out his seat at his friend's incredulous remark. "Shit, no! Tch, only an idiot'd go into Galveston! That's where their whole base in America is! Ain't no one gonna make a run into there. Naw, we came up from Padre."

"Ouch."

"Yea. Most of the coast is all converted now, all the refineries n' shit have been turned into energy extractin' facilities. Ain't no one making another run down there anymore. We had enough trouble dodgin' the drones."

"Is that how…?"

"Naw. We got outta the coast jus' fine. Where we hit trouble was when we passed the San Antonio safe point. Got jumped jus' as we left by a Stunt."

David's eyes widened. "And you got away?! Which one was it?"

"Ain't you seen the group? We didn't exactly make a clean getaway. Not too sure which one it was, they all look th'same to me. Someone said it was Drag Strip though."

David paused to think momentarily. Despite the years he had spent harboring refugees and transporting them from safe point to safe point, he had more experience with drones than the Stunticons themselves or any other Decepticon for that matter. He had encountered Motormaster on two occasions, and then just recently Breakdown. All he knew about the Stunticons he got solely from hearsay he received the few times he'd been in permanent human settlements deep in The Rockies.

Judging from what he'd heard about Drag Strip, David was surprised Jeb had gotten away with so little casualties, let alone got away at all. But then again, that did seem to be the case with any Stunticon in general, aside from Dead End. It was widely agreed across all American safe points that if one had to go up against a Stunticon, it was best to try and shoot for Dead End. His extreme pessimism sometimes gave humans the extra advantage they desperately needed.

Jeb looked away from David briefly before tossing him another glance from the side as an uneasy silence fell on the two men. From down the hall wafted hushed sounds of people snoring, shifting, and softly crying mingling with louder sounds of water dripping and running. Such sounds were so common to the two humans now that they didn't even register on their awareness.

"I'm…not gonna make another run after this Dave," Jeb finally muttered reluctantly, as if he didn't really want to make the statement to his friend seated upon the floor. David looked up to meet his friend's stare but the other turned away.

"What?"

"I'm getting' too old for this Davey boy. I can't take it no more. The runnin', the stress, the death… every day more people die 'n every day more 'Cons show up. They wise up to our game plans and safe point after safe point's goin' under."

"David, it's only a matter 'a time before they figure this one out, too. Come with us back up to Oasis. I know ya hate it up in the mountains but there ain't anywhere safer any more," Jeb pleaded, worry lines worn deep in his face from years of stress growing more prominent in his eyes and forehead.

"What makes you think the settlements in the Rockies are any safer?" David asked in a low and strangely monotonous voice. He cast a quick glance down the tunnel towards the commons area; it would not be good for morale for the already worn refugees to overhear the two men's conversation. He turned back to his large friend, his face strangely calm and stoic.

"At least here I've got supplies, a battery to put the U.S. military of old to shame, traps, and I know every inch of the pavement above us. I'd like to _see_ a Decepticon try and smoke me out," he continued in the same flat tone of voice.

To anyone else, David probably would've seemed like he was boasting, but Jeb knew the truth that lurked in his young friend's words.

David was just plain _scary_ when he was out in the field taking out drones. He flew across the pavement at lightning speeds without any hesitation and the utmost precision. He had contributed to man's limited arsenal with his impressive EMP grenades as well as a few other goodies that David never shared with the rest of the population. Such devices have saved Jeb and whatever refugees traveling with him countless times in the past.

And one could not overlook the wide range of ingeniously complex traps set up everywhere in downtown, specifically under and around the Adam's Mark Hotel, which served as a base of operations during attacks.

It was so strange that this same person, this young man, was the impish little boy Jeb had known years ago before the invasion. Even stranger was how welcoming and altruistic he could be when he interacted with the refugees compared to his behavior up on the surface. But then again, survival called for a certain ruthlessness, and one must do what is necessary to survive, Jeb decided.

But Jeb had also seen the funny way in which life worked. He had seen men armed to the teeth squashed like insects before the might of the Decepticons. After all, human warfare had only come so far compared to overwhelming strength of the technologically superior race that currently _owned_ the planet. David had survived these past fifteen years simply due to his speed, his organization, and his luck.

"There are still people who need my help here. I can't just abandon the safe point. How will people get up into the mountains? I can't just leave them out there to be picked off," David continued.

"David! Haven't you caught up with what I'm tryin' to tell ya? _No one's_ comin' up anymore. There ain't no one to bring up! This here group's the last of 'em!" Jeb hissed, trying to keep his voice as low as he could.

"You don't know that!" David suddenly yelled back, loosing restraint and no longer concerning himself with remaining quiet for the sake of the sleeping refugees.

Jeb did not raise his voice back at him, the large man simply just glared at him. The air between them became very tense, each waiting for the other to react. The silence that fell once again was broken only by the sound of dripping water from somewhere down in the tunnel, like the silence that had fallen earlier. The only difference this time was that the sound of the dripping water seemed to have been amplified.

"David…" said Jeb imploringly.

David shook his head before lowering his voice back down to an acceptable level. "Look, I know it's hard. We all do. But it's not in me to just give and abandon this place. Dad wouldn't have done it. There are still people out there, I know there are. I'm sorry Jeb, but I'm not leaving just yet."

David's lips twitched into a hopeful smile, hoping to coax the same out of his friend, but Jeb still bore an expression that appeared to be a mix between frustration and exhaustion.

"Besides, if there really isn't anyone else, I can still take down a few Cons here," the young human added. This time Jeb did smile a bit before letting out a long and tired sigh. David had won.

"Boy, you're altruistic to the point to where it's killin' ya. Even your old man would agree, bless his soul," the older man chuckled.

"Don't I know it," David mocked, adding a slurred southern accent to his quote.

"Don't be a smart-ass."

* * *

David returned to what he had nicknamed his "nest" a little after three in the morning, after another short banter between himself and Jeb. His friend had convinced the increasingly incoherent young man to get some sleep while he stayed up to decipher the codes David had jotted down earlier. He was, as older man put it, much better at it than a monkey. 

The room at the end of the far left tunnel in the commons room served as David's room. It was smaller than all the other rooms at the Dallas Safe Point, and all that was really in it was a giant pile of cloths, rags, and clothes at one end that served as David's bed. He had never been one for mattresses. When he was a kid, his parents would often find him curled up on the floor next to his bed with pillows, sheets, and blankets tossed all about the room. Besides it would've been quite difficult to squeeze something as big as a mattress through a manhole then lug it down a narrow tunnel.

For now, three cots also occupied the small space, with three sleeping refugees. The first David recognized as the young man who had prevented him from slipping when he had first led the refugees into the sewer system. The second was an older woman with frizzy red hair, facing away from David and snoring softly.

The third was the teenage boy. He sat up when David entered, jarring his sleep-deprived mind a bit. He blinked at the boy bemusedly.

"Can't sleep?" he asked more casually than he probably should have, but tact wasn't exactly his first priority right now. He could not help flicking his gaze back and forth between the boy and his nest. It didn't help that the teenager didn't respond at first, adding to David's impatience.

"Yea…" he said finally after what felt like forever to David. "Too much going on."

"There's a woman snoring to your right and a community pee bucket next to your bed."

"That's not what I meant," The boy snapped.

David moaned internally; he was only trying to lighten the mood. But he was never known for his social grace. He looked back and forth between the boy and the commons room at the far end of the tunnel behind him. Something was missing,

"Shouldn't you be with your little sister?" he inquired.

"She's not my sister!" the teenager snapped again loudly. The sudden outburst shook the man on the other side of the still snoring woman awake. He mumbled something incoherent before flopping over to expose his back to both sleepy young man and the boy.

"Alright, alright. Calm down," David whispered, waving his hands slightly as if it would help the situation more. "My mistake. What's your name kid?"

"Hunter."

In his sleep-deprived state, David entertained the idea of making a joke involving the "hunter being the hunted" but thankfully retained enough logic to decide against it. He had already angered the kid, best not to make him murderous.

"Well, Hunter, you don't seem to like that little girl too much."

"I don't. It's all her fault anyways." Hunter replied bitterly.

"What is? All of this?" David asked, lifting up his arms and gesturing towards the ceiling. "I think you can hardly blame an eight-year-old girl for the destruction of the human race" he joked, again trying to lighten things up.

"No," Hunter replied indignantly. "It's her fault we got hit in San Antonio. Everything was going fine 'til she had to start crying when Drag Strip came poking around. It's her fault we were spotted, her fault people got killed, and her fault my parents aren't here now," Hunter growled with tears beginning to well up in the corners of his eyes. Apparently, David's earlier assumption involving children had been correct.

The older human sighed, and slowly sat himself on the edge of Hunter's cot. Damn it, he really wanted to sleep…

"Look, I know you feel bitter. And I know it's still so soon, but she couldn't help it. I've had the same thing happen here, even with kids your age or older," he began in a soft voice, hoping to calm the boy down while at the same time not waking the other two refugees. With any luck he could speed this speech up and get to bed in a timely manner.

"But here's how it is: all we have now is each other in this world. Those damned giant tin men up there have got us all on the run, have been for fifteen years now. We can't waste precious time and energy pointing fingers and lamenting over what's been lost. We just don't have the luxury for it anymore," David finished solemnly. He had not meant to sound so depressing, but there was no other way to put it.

When David had been younger, a Run Leader had given him much the same speech after his parents presumably died. It had been much more light-hearted, but that was because it had still been in the beginning of mankind's struggle for survival. There had been hope in the Run Leader's eyes and up-lifting energy in his voice. Humankind had not yet seen the full extent of Decepticon brutality.

Now, no one spoke of the glory of triumphing over adversity. No, people just held on to each other for dear life, grasping what they could, and trudged on to an end that remained uncertain and always too soon. No one questioned why he or she should continue with his or her existence anymore. Existing, in itself, had simply become a symbol of defiance.

The two humans sat in an uncomfortable silence. Just when David began to worry he had made things worse, the boy finally nodded his acknowledgement. He didn't look much happier, tears still staining the corners of his eyes, but he seemed to understand enough. David smiled sympathetically.

"Good," he grunted. He lifted his tired body from Hunter's cot and let himself fall down face-first onto his pile of cloths that constituted as his bed. He was so tired he didn't even bother to remove his mud-caked boots. Tomorrow was going to be another long day, and he just wanted to forget the world if even for just a few hours.

* * *

**Author's Notes Continued: **So I spent this past weekend in the great city of Philadelphia, and even though it's _very_ different from the city of Dallas (A city I've only visited twice and never plan to drive in again) being in the city provided great inspiration for the future chapters. I can't wait to really get the ball rolling! 


	5. Hell in a Hand Basket

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Transformers. All recognizable characters are the property of HasTak. All unrecognizable ones are the intellectual property of yours truly; their theft is punishable by severe voodoo-induced pain in any and all sensitive organs of the body, followed by eternal damnation.

Because, you know, stealing is wrong. (Which is funny because I totally ganked this disclaimer from Vaeru, with her permission of course.)**  
**

* * *

**Rated:** T. For mild cursing, violence, and other adult themes that will probably ensue. 

**Author Notes:** Goodness, sorry about the slow update. This chapter was incredibly difficult for a novice like me to write. But I think it came out alright, and besides, there's finally some Stunticon action! Once again I want to thank Vaeru for taking the time to edit this for me, hopefully my extensive comma abuse has not made your brain bleed too badly.

* * *

**Contra Mundum **

**Chapter Five**

* * *

_"Pain lasts, kid. It's how you know you're alive. Sometimes I think this growing up thing is just pain management."  
_

_**-Maxx, The Maxx**_

* * *

David skidded around the street corner, his boots losing friction on the wet concrete. He fell sideways and rolled a bit, coming to stop in a small ditch in the eroded asphalt. The jagged street bit into his exposed arms and tore into his already worn pant leggings, leaving strawberry gashes in its wake that stung as the warm rain made contact with them. 

The human flipped over onto his stomach, despite the hissing pain in his arms and legs, and tried stand back up only to slip on the slick slab of concrete. His right elbow came down hard on the ground, jarring the entire right side of his body. He yelped in surprise; it was like hitting his funny bone multiplied a hundred times over. He gripped the offended limb and curled into a ball, his cheek pressed against the wet road. Burning tears began to form in the corner of his eyes, but it was not the intense pain in his arm that brought them on.

"God damn it!" he nearly screamed at the treacherous asphalt. "How did this happen?!"

It was a dumb question to ask, he knew, and even dumber to ask something as inanimate as the street below him. He knew exactly how this all had happened. He had begged Jeb to wait another day, just one more day. Now everything was going to hell…

The loud roar of an engine halted David's lamentation. His head snapped up to see a familiar white Lamborghini Countach screaming down the crumbling city street straight at him. Ignoring the numbness in his joint, the young man shot up off the ground and sprinted towards a narrow alleyway between two dilapidated buildings. His boots continued to slip and slide across the drenched surface of the road, and for a heart-stopping moment, David feared he would not make it to the safety of the alley.

Panic enticed him to forget the whole running idea, and he simply rolled the remaining distance between himself and the alley, just barely tumbling into it before Breakdown smeared him across the pavement. David didn't wait to see the Stunticon's grand miss or the near wipeout and instead streaked down the alleyway as fast as his exhausted legs could carry him. He zigzagged between abandoned garbage dumpsters before breaking out onto the street on the other side. He could hear Breakdown on the other side of the buildings screeching into a U-turn.

That's it. Follow me, follow me…

David continued his frantic dash down the street, wiping water from his eyes and keeping to the edges in case he needed to duck into a building and kept his scrambler off. He wanted Breakdown to keep his sensors on him at all costs. He had even abandoned his shield, but that was more out of the need to run unimpeded than anything else.

Ordinarily, any other Decepticon would've killed him off much sooner. Breakdown was, after all, a super advanced alien life form, and he was certainly much faster than any human could ever dream to be. He could also easily jump over the building separating him from his human prey, or even blow them down. But that would be too easy. It was in this one regard that David was eternally grateful for the Stunticons' arrogance.

Just a little further…

David came to a screeching halt as the white sports car suddenly appeared in front of him. Despite the fact that Breakdown was in his alt mode, David could practically see the sadistic smile on his face.

"End of the line squishy." the metal monster snarled. He revved his engine, tires struggling for purchase on the wet road before finally shooting off like a bullet towards the strangely motionless human.

David stood like a suicidal madman in the path of oncoming headlights, fighting the urge to dive to the side or turn tail completely. His knees and arms twitched, practically screaming at him to run. At the very last possible moment, the trembling human ripped a strange hand-sized orb out from one of his many pockets. Tearing a small pin out at the top, he flung the object at Breakdown's windshield before finally diving out of the way.

As the spherical object struck the glass of the Stunticon's windshield, it created a small shockwave that made the hair on David's head stand straight on end. It then shortly erupted into an impressive fireball. Breakdown's wheels locked up and he began to swerve, narrowly missing the human sprawled on the concrete.

Again, David didn't stick around to see Breakdown spin out, or to see him crash into what could've only been the last standing light post in Dallas. That was his last EMP grenade and aside from his magnesium blade, he was now defenseless. Behind him, Breakdown shrieked with rage: probably from being hit by the same attack twice in one day. David couldn't help but smirk triumphantly.

The human sprang up from the street once again, not pausing for a moment. The muscles in his legs cried out to him, begging for rest. He couldn't stop, not now. Not when he was so close. This was probably going to be his one and only chance to successfully take down a Stunticon. He had to do this for Jeb, for everyone…

Suddenly the image of the little girl from the night before flashed in David's mind. The way she looked at him as he helped her into the van to sit next to Hunter…

The young man quickly shook the image from his mind. There would be time for grieving later, if there was a later at all. Behind him he could hear Breakdown's tires screeching against the soaked pavement. In a matter of seconds the enraged Stunticon would gain purchase of the ground below him and plaster David across the crumbling street like an unlucky insect.

It didn't matter; David had finally reached his goal. He dropped down into a manhole a fraction of a second before Breakdown screamed over him. He looked up just in time to see the Lamborghini's undercarriage zoom over the opening of the hole in a blur.

As soon as David's boots touched (and slipped) on the slimy sewer floors, he flicked on his scrambler. The human quickly picked himself back up and scurried down the small and narrow tunnel. At the end of the tunnel was a small iron grating covering an even smaller shaft. He lifted the grating and wiggled his long body through the shaft like an overgrown rat and finally arrived at his destination.

The shaft led into David's control center at the Dallas Safe Point. Glowing blue monitors greeted the banged- and scuffed- up human, and a wicked smile cracked across his face. Displayed on a computer monitor on the left was a very frustrated Stunticon, sitting square in the middle between the buildings that used to make up the Adam's Mark Hotel.

"Slag!" screamed the infuriated Decepticon.

"_What's going on?"_ a voice unfamiliar to David asked through Breakdown's external communication.

"I lost it! The little ape disappeared below the street and now I can't track it!" exclaimed Breakdown as he transformed hastily into his robot form. His hulking body whipped side to side ferociously in search of the same little organic vermin he had lost not forty-eight hours prior.

"You lost it?! Way to go scrap-for-brains! Can't do anything right can you? I'm on my way, seeing as you can't do anything yourself!" replied the voice smugly.

"Can it Drag. I don't need your help; I'll find the little rat myself. You just concentrate on catching that bandwagon of organic filth that left here."

"_Already taken care of. You know, it's pretty sad if I can slag a van full off squishies and you can't even catch one!"_

David's muscles spasmed with pure white-hot rage; he leapt up from the shaft and dove for the controls. All thoughts of hopelessness, of anguish, and fear suddenly fled from his mind as fast as his fingers flew across the controls. He would make them pay, oh God, how he would make them pay.

There was a small movement far to the right of Breakdown, somewhere within the crumbling remains of a large building. Immediately, the Stunticon had his massive gun out and targeted at the spot of movement. His sensors told him nothing and it angered him. Humans were such cowards, always concealing themselves, even to go so far as to invent a device that mucked up his sensors.

Breakdown fired, and a small part of what was left of the structure came crashing down. There was no surviving that, he knew. But suddenly there was another movement, far to the left of him. How could the little ape have gotten over there so fast?

Before Breakdown could turn and fire his weapon again, something shot at him. The bullets did not ricochet off his armor like the usual pathetic excuse for projectile weapons humans generally used. No, these sank in. Not far enough to cause considerable damage, but enough to make the already fritzy Stunticon begin to panic.

Breakdown fired again, in the direction of the oncoming attack. The bullets ceased their firing, but as soon as they stopped, he found himself under fire again. This time he was being shot at from somewhere high in the standing building. There was no way a human could have gotten up there so quickly!

The Decepticon looked everywhere frantically, searching for some sort of cover. There was nothing; he was standing in the middle of an open plaza, and the buildings were too small and damaged for him to fit under. All there was in the dilapidated plaza was a few scattered Decepticon remains, and for the first time Breakdown began to wonder how they got there.

Just as Breakdown finally began to regain his composure, he came under fire again. A string of stinging bullets bit into his back. How was this possible?! He was being fired upon from two locations! There must've been more humans here than he thought, clever little rodents! Breakdown shielded himself as best he could, and returned fire where he could. But every time he took out a gunner, another would appear to take its place.

A demented smile spread on David's face from ear to ear. The Stunticon had taken out a few of the unmanned guns located at ground level of the plaza, but there were plenty more to take their places located throughout the two buildings. He was successfully working Breakdown into a frenzied panic, and soon would come the grand finale.

Breakdown was beginning to find himself in a state of sheer hysteria. He was beginning to take serious damage and he'd yet to thwart his attackers let alone even see them. He had tried to back out of the plaza, but another unseen gunner corralled him back in. Then, all at once, all firing stopped. The Stunticon straightened himself, the air around him bristling with tension. He wiped the whole area with every sensor he had, and then did it again. Had they stopped? Was it over? He should run for it before they start again…

As if to answer his thoughts, a loud explosion sounded low to the ground, followed by a numbing pain in his right knee. Breakdown fell, and gripped his injured leg tightly. Where the slag had that even come from? He had scanned the area; there was no way anything could've gotten so close to him!

Breakdown looked down, and suddenly realized just where the attack came from. Sitting just inches from his enormous foot, was a small covered hole imbedded in the ground. It was smaller than the hole the human had disappeared into, for no human could possibly fit in this hole. A quick scan showed Breakdown that the hole was connected to a grid system that spread throughout the plaza. Hundreds of holes lined the entire area, and each contained the small, sphere-like weapons the human had flung at his windshield earlier.

It was all a mechanized, self-reloading, self-firing system.

"Oh no…" the hulking monster whispered.

Almost in response to Breakdown's words, every hole around him opened and spat out the little grenades, each going off seconds after leaving the ground. Breakdown stumbled, and as he moved new holes opened and spat their fury at him. Before each grenade went off, it created a small EMP wave. It was not enough to knock any systems offline, but it was enough to stun him for a few seconds. And with so many going off at once, Breakdown was overwhelmed.

David watched his pursuer stumble across his monitor; batting away what grenades he could reach before they went off. He felt like he was not watching an intelligent and violent alien life form struggling, but more like he was playing a game from long ago. This was the boss level, and soon he'd make it to the end of the game to save the world, or the princess, or whatever waited for him at the end of those little games.

"This is for Jeb," the human snarled darkly, as he slammed his thumb down hard on a round black button.

To Breakdown's abject horror, every hole in the plaza opened up and out popped a grenade for each one. In a perfectly choreographed display, each grenade erupted at the exact same time. The concrete ceiling above David's rumbled, and the cameras lost their feed momentarily due to the impressive blast, and he waiting patiently for the images to return.

When the images finally returned, David was utterly disappointed. He had hoped only steaming bits of Breakdown would remain strewn about the plaza, despite the fact that he knew that even in large numbers the grenades were not that powerful. Breakdown was still intact and, to further David's disappointment, still alive.

David's hand reached for a lever that would bring out what he nicknamed "The Big Guns", but before he could pull it, the Decepticon took advantage of the reprieve and quickly transformed into his Lamborghini alt form, peeling out of the plaza at break-neck speed. The Stunticon had not escaped without considerable damage though. His bumper as well as other things dragged on the pavement behind him, black smoke belching from his tail pipe and engine.

David's heart sank; Breakdown had gotten away. He had failed. This was probably his one and only chance to take out a Stunticon and he blew it.

He should have tried harder to persuade Jeb to wait another day. Or maybe he should have gone with them as Jeb had asked; maybe he could've helped them shake off Drag Strip. What would have happened if he had done anything different? God, oh God, it was all his fault…

Suddenly the world became too overwhelming for the human, and he let himself fall backwards onto the cool stone floor of the control center. His wounds, though superficial, seemed to ache and sting more, and his limbs became so heavy. Everything that the wretched day had brought seemed to suddenly crash down in his mind and he shut his eyes as the familiar sting of tears surfaced. He shoved the palms of his dirty and bloody hands into his eyes, and did not resist as the waking world began to dissolve into darkness.

"Jeb, I really don't think this is a good idea. It's still raining outside, it's causing too much interference with the cameras. Just wait another day, please."

"_Boy, I told you, I can't wait any longer. They can't wait. Thompson's worse than he ever was and so is Mrs. Eleiz. They need medical attention you ain't got. We've gotta leave now."_

_David looked away from his friend out onto the small sea of grim faces. They were in no condition to travel. Each of them slightly slumped over from exhaustion, despite their one night's reprieve. They stood close to one another, almost like they were ready to catch each other should they fall. Hunter stood in the back, clasping the little girl's hand; she looked up to him expectantly, her dirty blonde hair tumbling to one side. Beside him stood the woman with frizzy red hair, her eyes drooping and cheeks as red as her hair._

_Jeb was right though, they just couldn't wait anymore, and they had to get to the Rockies. _

"_Alright. Come on, I'll take you to the van," David sighed reluctantly. _

_The van was a large white van concealed in the remains of the Adam's Mark Hotel parking lot. It was of considerable size, meant to haul a good number of people from one place to another. A past Run Leader once told David that long ago they were referred to as "shuttles". But despite this, it was still a challenge fitting twenty-three people into the shuttle. Some had to sit on the floor while others sat on laps._

_David helped the little girl into the van, holding her tiny hand. She sat down next to the boy, Hunter, and he helped her with her seatbelt. She looked up at David awkwardly with big brown eyes, as if she wanted to say something but just did not know the words. David did not linger to hear, quickly turning away to help settle other refugees. _

_Finally, every refugee settled and strapped in, David walked around to the driver's side window to look up at Jeb._

"_And you say I'm an idiot," David grumbled. Jeb only laughed._

"_Sorry boy, but you know how it goes," the older man said. The engine of the shuttle sputtered to life, and slowly Jeb eased the rickety thing out of the parking lot, David walking alongside holding onto the rearview mirror. _

"_Stay off the main roads and away from major rivers. Stay in the forests if you can. There's some extra scramblers and batteries in the under the driver's seat. You should have enough gas to get into Oklahoma," David called out. _

"_Boy, I've been doin' this longer n' you. This ain't my first rodeo," reassured the man._

"_I know it," answered David, smiling. He gave the shuttle a firm slap on the taillights as it ambled away from him, bouncing up and down over the crumbling street. It must've been very uncomfortable for the refugees sitting on the floor._

_David stood in the rain under the dark gray-blue sky, watching it go. When it was not but fifty yards away, two terrifyingly loud engines roared to life behind him. To David's absolute horror, a gold six-wheeler racecar shot passed him after the shuttle. That left David standing in the headlights of the same white Lamborghini Countach that had terrorized him two days ago. They had been lying in wait the entire time…_

"God damn it…" David cursed silently before darkness swallowed him.

* * *

**Shameless self-promotion: **Vaeru and I are holding a special contest! Be sure to check it out by following the urls listed in her and my profiles! 


	6. Wasted Away Again in Margaritaville

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Transformers. All recognizable characters are the property of HasTak. All unrecognizable ones are the intellectual property of yours truly; their theft is punishable by severe voodoo-induced pain in any and all sensitive organs of the body, followed by eternal damnation.

Because, you know, stealing is wrong. (Which is funny because I totally ganked this disclaimer from Vaeru, with her permission of course.)**  
**

* * *

**Rated:** T. For mild cursing, violence, and other adult themes that will probably ensue. 

**Author Notes:** Thank you to all the wonderful people who've given me such nice reviews! I actually thought about putting this down but I think I will do my best to continue with it. I want to especially thank silvane, who's review left me blushing madly. And to Kuronyo, don't worry. (That's all the hint you get! Heehee.)

* * *

**Contra Mundum **

**Chapter Six**

* * *

**The Operative:** "_You've done remarkable things, but you're fighting a war you've already lost._"  
**Mal:** "_Yeah, well I'm known for that._"

**-Serenity**

* * *

"We've located Shockwave's ship sir," 

"Report,"

"It's stationed in orbit of a small planet within this solar system. We've no information about the planet itself or it's inhabitants, but the Decepticons seem interested in it enough,"

"We're coming up on it now,"

"I'm getting a distress signal from the planets surface…Wait, there's more than one signal,"

"How many more?"

"You may want to look at it yourself sir,"

"Put it up on the screen,"

"…"

"Primus…"

"There's so many…we're not going to answer them all are we?"

"No, we can't. But we can try and help where we can. Which signal is the closest?"

"This one, in the Northern Hemisphere,"

"Then we will start there. Prepare for landing,"

* * *

Days passed into weeks, not that it mattered much to David. For him, each moment, each day just bled into one another. The world had become nothing but a blur. For a long time, David did not leave his underground haven. He spent most of his time in his room or on the floor of the control center, just staring at the screens, waiting. 

He did not grieve, he did not lament. Hell, he had not even thought about what had happened. He didn't want to. For now, he just wanted to remain blissfully dumb as long as he could.

After about three days of just nothing, routine began to gain control over the young man's body. Out of habit, he left the Safe Point and traveled aimlessly and carelessly about the city. First, he repaired the unmanned guns around the plaza of the old Adam's Mark Hotel. He had hardly even been aware that he had done it, years of hard training shining through as his hands did the work on their own while his mind remained an utter blank.

At one point, while he was perched high on the ledge of the crumbling hotel, a doe and her faun wandered into the dying city. It was something that was not uncommon, as most of the city was being reclaimed by nature anyway by way of overgrown weeds and plants forcing their way through broken slabs of concrete. All kinds of herds of different animals would often stroll through, stripping the concrete of weeds and flowers as they went.

The doe however, did not appear to be very healthy, her head hung low and every step seemed strained. Her faun trailed hesitantly behind her, each step as slow and uncertain as it's mother's. Soon after lumbering into the plaza, she collapsed in a heap amidst the fallen Decepticons.

David grimaced as the faun watched her fall. It did not move, and for a long time would not leave the plaza, content with nibbling a little tufts of grass while it waited for the doe. The human did not dare move from his perch; he knew what was to come shortly. Sure enough, several hours after the doe had fallen with the faun still waiting for his mother to rise, a pack of dogs appeared.

Dogs had become just as much a plague on humanity since the invasion as the Decepticons had. David had yet to figure out how their numbers suddenly exploded after the invasion, and over the years they had become more than just a nuisance. They looked like the ordinary house pets David's family used to keep: retrievers, labs, and mutts. But they were warped now, vicious, snarling, and threatening. Their friendly faces were replaced with angry fangs and foam. Many refugees or run leaders caught out by themselves had been dragged into the darkness of the ever-growing forests in the jaws of these creatures.

Two dogs leapt for the faun, and all too easily took the little beast down with a single bite to the neck. David was too far up to hear any sounds of pain from the faun, and the barking of the other canines drowned any sounds of a struggle out. The others hovered around the fallen corpse of the doe for a while, conversing amongst each other over who would get the first bite. They bit each other's ears and necks, bickering over their treat.

One dog, what may have been at one time a black lab, looked up at David who was still leaning from his place high in the sky above the dogs. The horrible parody of a mongrel bared his ivory teeth at the human, little diamonds in a blob of blackness. David wondered how much time had passed before the body of his friend and the others had met the same fate a few weeks prior.

David waited high on his ledge for the dogs to finish their meal and leave, fighting the overwhelming urge to sob or to run down there and give those horrible beasts what for.

But he knew better, they outnumbered him greatly and he had to save his energy for the next time he received a chance to kill a Stunticon.

After what felt like an eternity of sitting in the burning sun, he began to descend from the hotel, his arms and legs trembling so much they threatened knock him off balance and send him plummeting to his doom.

He traveled away from the plaza then and found a decent amount of metals and other materials in a half-crushed school bus. Out of habit, he also gathered any food and water he found for the next group of refugees.

It wasn't until he found himself standing in the CVS on West Mockingbird Lane that David snapped out of his zombie-like trance and realized what he was doing. He looked down at himself; there was a bottle of pills with a label he could not pronounce in his left hand. There was a package of old (and probably stale) pretzels in his right hand.

_"Haven't you caught up with what I'm tryin' to tell ya? No one's comin' up anymore. There ain't no one to bring up!"_

The tall man continued to stare at the objects in his hands before letting both drop to the floor of the old drugstore. He then turned and walked out, buckling under his shield a little more than usual.

* * *

Night had fallen by the time David reached the Safe Point from the CVS, and it was a scene that was all too familiar to him. At least this time it wasn't raining, he figured. He stood for a short while outside the manhole that led to the commons area. Several weeks had gone by since the death of Jeb and the other refugees, and David realized he had not done a single thing in remembrance of his friend. 

David suddenly became overwhelmed with guilt, and it festered with much weight in his stomach. God, the least he could've done would have been to retrieve their bodies and bury them, instead of leaving them out to be picked clean by scavengers. He knew his father would've been immensely ashamed him, and the thought of it made the weight in his stomach even worse.

He needed to do something. Anything to make the angry ghosts of memories in his head and the weight in his stomach go away. And so with lead feet, David dragged two long pieces of metal taken from the armor of a Decepticon drone all the way up to roof of the building of the Adam's Mark Hotel that was in better shape of the two. He jammed one of the metal pieces upright in a wide crack in the structure and fastened the other across the first horizontally to create a makeshift cross.

Then very carefully, David carved the name "Jeb" into the metal with his magnesium blade. It was a difficult task in the dark, though the blade itself provided a little bit of light to work with. He would've carved in every name of the refugees that had been with Jeb too, but the only one whose name he knew was Hunter's. So underneath Jeb's name, he just as carefully added "Hunter" and twenty-two scratch marks. It was then, that the human wished more than anything that he could remember Jeb's last name. But then again, David couldn't even remember his own anymore.

After finally finishing, David stood back to behold his work. It was poor at best, but it was really all he could do now. He had never been one for religion so he could not call on any passages to recite for a moment like this. But he felt the need to say something: an apology, a farewell, anything.

In the end, all the man could think to say was "Help me,"

He really wasn't quite sure why that was the only thing he found himself able to say, in fact it startled him a little bit. He wasn't even sure if he was speaking to Jeb. But when he tried of something more sentimental to leave to his friend, no other words came. Minutes ticked by, and finally David gave up trying to think of something else to say.

Reluctantly, David descended down from the skeletal remains of the hotel and down again under the street to what he, for years now, called home. Although, it didn't really feel like home anymore, for now he felt truly alone. Sure, there had been long periods of time between refugee runs. Sometimes a year or two would go by without any real human contact. But he had always known someone would be coming by sooner or later.

But knowing no one would come from now on, coupled with recent events, the Safe Point seemed to have lost all purpose. David, out of sheer habit, dragged his feet down to the control center. What should he do now? Should he stay? There was no telling when the next Decepticon or drone would be coming by, so it would probably be silly, if not wasteful, to sit around and wait for one. Maybe he should take Jeb's advice, and make for the Rockies.

David was suddenly jolted from his thoughts as his CB radio suddenly blipped. He stared at it numbly for a moment, as if he had only imagined it. But then, one by one, each of his monitors blipped as well. That could only mean one thing. A dark smirk cracked across his face that was a mixture of glee and hatred. Perhaps he would be able to avenge Jeb after all. It certainly would be better than a makeshift cross.

The human had not a minute to lose. His body surged with electric excitement as he went over his weapon inventory. He stuffed his pockets with a variety of grenades, checked his magnesium blade, grabbed his scrambler, and anything else he could possibly think of. He even grabbed his swiss army knife.

Satisfied, the young man skidded back onto the floor of the control center and his fingers danced across the switches and buttons in an impressive display of dexterity. Preparations were made, and all he had to do now was wait. He was not going to let them get away again.


	7. Lying in Wait

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Transformers. All recognizable characters are the property of HasTak. All unrecognizable ones are the intellectual property of yours truly; their theft is punishable by severe voodoo-induced pain in any and all sensitive organs of the body, followed by eternal damnation.

Because, you know, stealing is wrong. (Which is funny because I totally ganked this disclaimer from Vaeru, with her permission of course.)**  
**

* * *

**Rated:** T. For mild cursing, violence, and other adult themes that will probably ensue. 

**Author Notes:** School's kicking my butt right now, but at least I managed to make two updates in one month neh?

* * *

**Contra Mundum **

Chapter Seven

* * *

_ "Up the airy mountain, down the rushing glen, we dare not go a hunting, for fear of little men!"_

_**-Tinker: Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory**_

_**  
**_

* * *

_The little red numbers on the clock read eleven thirty in the evening, David tossed and turned in his twin-sized bed. He had never liked his bed, or any bed for that matter. If he had it his way he'd spend every night on the floor, but his parents seemed to really dislike his habit. They were threatening to take away the TV now if he didn't stay in bed._

_The doorknob to his room jingled noisily, and David groaned. He sunk his head under his dark blue sheets and tried his best to look like he was already asleep. He heard the door click open, followed by light and uneven steps. David rolled over; no, he was not going to deal with this again._

"_David…" a small voice whispered to him. To make himself seem deep asleep, he pretended to snore loudly. A little hand gently rocked the back of his shoulder. "David…" the voice called again._

_The boy gave up on his attempts to brush off the intruder and turned to face a ghostly little white face, "_What_ Jessie?" he asked in the impatient way that only older siblings do to younger ones._

"_Can I sleep in here tonight?" asked his younger sister, slurring her pronunciation of the letter R._

"_Go sleep in your own room!" he hissed at the girl, and snapped a finger towards the door._

_The little urchin did not move from her place, but only implored her older brother with big brown eyes that matched his own. She wringed her delicate little hands anxiously._

"_I'm scared," she whimpered._

"_I told you not to watch 'Aliens' with me. You should've just gone to bed when mom and dad told you to," David grumbled, but he got up and dragged his pillow off the bed. At least this would give him a reason not to sleep in the bed. "Just for tonight, got it?"_

_Jessie did not answer, but hurriedly clamored onto his bed. David helped her up, as she was still to small to jump all the way up by herself. After dragging a blanket out of his closet, he plopped onto the floor with a dull thud and closed his eyes with silent satisfaction._

"_David…"_

_The boy cracked a red eye open, "_What?_" he demanded._

"_You'll keep watch for any aliens right? You'll make them go away?"_

"_Yes," he sighed, "I promise I'll make them go away. Now go to sleep."_

* * *

Everything was ready; the only thing missing was a giant alien robot waltzing into the plaza. David had never worked with such intensity or vigor in his life, but he had also never been driven by such a sense of vengeance. Not even when his parents died.

All the guns around the plaza had been fixed and loaded, he had checked all of his cameras, the underground grid was working without any problems, and all of his cannons were functional. The best part of the setup, in his opinion, was the line of magnesium bombs lined all around the entrances of the Adam's Mark Hotel plaza.

David considered it a magnificent stroke of last-minute brilliance inspired by the heated blade he carried. The idea was, that the upcoming Decepticon or Decepticons would be lured into the plaza, and if they tried to back out and run like Breakdown did, the bombs would set off a wall of flames. The magnesium would then heat the blaze to the point that no sane mech would dare even go near it and become trapped within a literal ring of fire. David affectionately called it The Pit.

The whole thing had taken less time to setup than he thought it did. But then David was also stuck in fast-forward. He never stopped for even a second in his machinations and performed every task with impossible swiftness. Hardly an hour had passed before David found himself sitting and waiting eagerly in front of his monitors.

The tall man could barely contain his excitement, jittering and fidgeting wildly in his place, and all the while never once looking away from the screens. His eyes danced across every display, never lingering for more than a fraction of a second. He did not want to miss a damn thing.

The CB radio behind him began to crackle, David's body jumped but he did not break his stare from his monitors. The crackling slowly began to increase, then fade away as voices slowly started to replace the static. This time David did turn around and even got up to put his ear closer to the ancient device, the voices were still coming in a little weak.

He made out one voice…then two…three? Holy cow, just how many were there? Normally, any Safe Point Leader (or any human for that matter) would begin to panic at the aspect of more than one Decepticon heading their way. Not only was David not panicking, he was so happy he could hardly contain it!

He spun away from the radio and practically leapt the distance between himself and the monitors. He carried so much momentum he skidded a bit forward across the concrete floor and almost crashed into his control center. The young man didn't even bother to remain sitting, but rather scrambled to hunch on all fours, leaning far forward so that his forehead almost made contact with the screen of a monitor.

The camera aimed towards the outskirts of the downtown area picked up something. David leaned forward more, so that his forehead was touching and squinted his puffy red eyes. A speck appeared, and slowly became six specks. Six! David was practically speechless.

The fact that voices were coming through and not just electronic garble meant that approaching mechs were six Decepticons, not six drones. David had never been so excited to see a mech more in his life than right now. He'd be able to avenge Jeb and every refugee he'd ever lost.

He watched them come closer into the city, walking rather than moving in their alt modes. Years of experience taught him what their alt forms generally were just by looking at their robot forms and as they came closer, he began to be able to identify each of them.

The one striding out in front, obviously this troop's leader, was a flyer: a red and white jet to be precise, with big bulky wings pointing downwards on his back. He would turn every now and then to say something to his troops but they were still too far away to make anything out.

The gray mech traveling behind him, who seemed to be talking the most, was a car David could not identify. Judging by the enormous guns mounted his shoulders; he was either a gunner or a sniper. David would need to take him out quickly. Pacing the gray mech was a blue and white mech who appeared to transform into a racecar of some sort. He didn't seem to say very much, unlike his friend.

Behind those two strode a tall and bright gold Lamborghini. David narrowed his glare at it; that one was going to die first. It kept its distance from the two in front and the two behind it, and appeared to be greatly annoyed by seemingly everything. David snickered at the ridiculous wide fins sticking out from both sides of its helm.

Following the irritated Lamborghini were a large black truck and a green jeep. The jeep had obviously taken his alt form from a military jeep and walked slowly to keep in pace with his large friend. The bulky black truck's slow pace would make it an easy target for sure.

They were closer now, and their voices began to come through clearer through the radio. David sat perfectly still, barely breathing, so he could hear every last word. Just a little further a he'd be able to begin his attack.

"Why did we land so far away?" the gold Lamborghini groaned.

The jet did not turn around to face him, but answered, "Because Sunstreaker, there's too much debris and wreckage around the signal to get any closer. It's not that far, quit whining,"

"This place looks a lot like home, you know, before the war," commented the gunner.

"Yea if Cybertron was inhabited entirely by minicons. And besides, it doesn't look much different from it now aside from being really small," laughed the bulky truck. David glared venomously at his figure on the screen; maybe the Lamborghini didn't have to die first. But the gunner had said something that struck David's interest: What war?

"What do you think this place looked like before they were run over?" inquired the jeep.

"Probably a lot like home like Bluestreak said," replied the big red and white jet. He then turned looking around the side of the Lamborghini, Sunstreaker, to glance at the Jeep. "How far is the signal Hound?"

"Not far, we're coming up on it now," answered the green mech.

Show time. David turned the frequency up on the distress beacon that had been set up long before he came to be protector of the Dallas Safe Point. It caused his monitors to fizz and wane. Through the static of the screens, he could see the mechs all stiffen, as he was sure their scanners began to blip.

"What is that?" asked the blue and white racecar in a cautiously low voice.

David dragged a microphone in front of him, and licked his lips. With a flick of his finger, he turned on the PA system.

"Help…"

All six of the aliens jumped and began to look around frantically for source of the formless voice. All but Hound whipped out guns so big David could probably crawl entirely inside the barrels.

"What's going on?" demanded tall gold mech in a dark tone, his irritated facial expression being quickly replaced by a vicious scowl.

"Wait! Calm down! It might be the one who sent out the distress signal, it might be a native!" the jeep reasoned, waving his hands frantically as if the act alone would make his comrades lower their weapons.

"How do we know this isn't a trap set up by a bunch of 'Cons?" growled the truck.

"Decepticons don't fight like this," interjected the racecar.

"_Please…help…"_David breathed into the microphone before quickly taking his finger off the button while trying to stifle a giggle. If he laughed into the PA now it would ruin the whole plan. The robots stopped their arguing for a moment, waiting for the disembodied voice to return.

"What should we do Jetfire?" whispered the gunner. He was quickly reminding David of Breakdown, as he was constantly looking all around him. He was probably running and re-running every scanner he had over everything around them. The human could practically see the tension and anxiety coming off him in waves.

The jet paused in his searching to think while his troops slowly converged around him to provide cover for him if it soon became necessary. "Mirage is right, Decepticons don't fight like this. We will locate the source of the signal and figure out what to do after that,"

David grinned like a little kid on Christmas morning, they were falling for it! These guys had to be new to Earth; most Decepticons didn't fall for this ploy anymore. Occasionally the drones would. All the better, David decided, it had been a long time since the human had been given a chance to have some fun.

One by one, they filed into the plaza. Each of them still whipping around and around, searching for any sign of life or threat. The still nameless black truck seemed to be the only one to notice the bodies of Decepticons littering the place. He poked one experimentally with the tip of his gun. Suddenly they all began speaking at once.

"This is the source of the signal…" announced the green jeep bemusedly.

"These are Decepticons!" said the truck, though no one seemed to be listening to him.

"I don't like this…" rumbled Lamborghini dangerously.

"_Help me…"_ The mechs on screen all stopped speaking and looked upwards towards the source of the voice. David hopped the quiver in his voice didn't betray his giggling. He would not be able to continue using the PA much longer; his mirth was quickly overtaking him. He began flipping switches and pressing many buttons of different sizes and colors.

"Jetfire," said the racecar, grabbing the jet and turning him to face the same direction he was facing. He pointed upwards to the corner of the crumbling hotel where a small cone-shaped device perched. "That is a megaphone,"

"…Oh slag,"

David roared with laughter and barely managed to rasp his battle cry before slamming a big red button, "TORPEDO ONE FIRE!"

* * *

**Author's Notes Continued: **Ok so David's little battle cry at the end I actually got from my dad. Story Time:

A number of years ago I was in the car with my dad driving and my mom was following us in her convertible with her top down. My dad paced her car with his and told me to give him one of my left over pieces of fried chicken from a fast food place we stopped at. He rolled down the window and when my mom was focusing on the road he screamed "TORPEDO ONE FIRE!" and chucked the chicken out the window, slapping my mom across the face with it. It was beautiful, I love my dad.


	8. Shooting Fish in a Barrel

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Transformers. All recognizable characters are the property of HasTak. All unrecognizable ones are the intellectual property of yours truly; their theft is punishable by severe voodoo-induced pain in any and all sensitive organs of the body, followed by eternal damnation.

Because, you know, stealing is wrong. (Which is funny because I totally ganked this disclaimer from Vaeru, with her permission of course.)**  
**

* * *

**Rated:** T. For mild cursing, violence, and other adult themes that will probably ensue. 

**Author Notes:** Happy Turkey Day everyone!

* * *

**Contra Mundum **

Chapter Eight

* * *

Zoe Washburn: "Cap'n'll have a plan... always does."  
Kaylee Frye: "That's good right?"  
Zoe Washburn: "It's possible you're not recalling some of the cap'n's previous plans..."  
-Firefly

* * *

Jetfire had led a very long life fraught with violence, lies, and close calls, mostly because of the war that had started on Cybertron and had eventually spread to other planets. Since the war's beginning, he had been placed in many different teams and groups, met many different mechs, and experienced so much. 

There had many times where he had been faced overwhelming odds and never once really felt worried that he might not it out alive. Though his teammates may not have always trusted him, he certainly trusted them. He was confident in their abilities and in his own.

But then again, he had never been put in charge of a team until now.

The war had spread so far from Cybertron now, and the Decepticon forces did not seem to suffer from this fact in the least. The Autobots did not rely heavily on drones like the Decepticons did, viewing the practice as cowardly. While the drones themselves were not as creative and intuitive as normal mechs were, they certainly made up for it in numbers. Especially in recent times, the Decepticons had somehow gained the resources needed to create a seemingly endless army of drones among other things.

The Autobot forces have since become thinly stretched across too many battlefronts on too many worlds, some of which had to be forsaken for others that were more promising, and as they say, desperate times call for desperate measures. It had become a common practice to place someone in charge of a team who was never designed to lead or to give someone the title of Medic even though they were a Scout. Jetfire was a scientist, not a warrior or a tactician, certainly no leader in his belief, but Optimus, unlike so many others, trusted the former Decepticon and was confident in his abilities. It almost made Jetfire think he really could lead.

Now, on this resource-rich alien world overthrown by Decepticon forces, Jetfire severely doubted his abilities, and for the first time, he feared that they might not all actually make it out of this one alive.

He should've known it was a trap, but like Mirage said, Decepticons didn't fight like this. Soon after realizing his folly, his small team of Autobots found themselves under heavy fire, and whoever was leading the assault certainly knew what they were doing.

The team of six was quickly separated into two groups by a string of gunfire: Jetfire, Bluestreak, Sunstreaker, and Trailbreaker on one side of the plaza, Hound and Mirage on the other. Gunfire then started coming out of every direction and the mechs scrambled for any kind of cover. Every time they tried to regroup, another line of fire would open up and they'd feel the sting of bullets penetrating their armor.

Jetfire called for the small group of Autobots to retreat but as they reached the edge of the buildings a wall of fire sprang up with flames so hot the outer layer of Jetfire's armor began to melt. There would be no jumping out of that without Trailbreaker's force fields, but even if they were to escape that way, that would still leave Mirage and Hound sitting ducks.

When the wall of fire went up, Jetfire saw Bluestreak begin to panic out of the corners of his optics. He had been expertly picking off the hidden gunman and even took out what appeared to be a camera, but now he was just firing in every direction only hoping to hit _something_, and once he started to panic, the others began to as well.

Jetfire had to keep them calm, he had to think of a plan, and he had to do something soon or he'd follow Bluestreak's example and join the rising hysteria. The scientist's optics darted all around the plaza he and the others were trapped in. All along the edges of the crumbling buildings surrounding them sat little cameras, their lenses glittering in the light of the fire. Whoever was shooting at them was doing so from a different location and watching them through those cameras.

"Blue… Bluestreak!"

The gunner came to a complete halt and looked to the red and white jet with wide optics.

Jetfire motioned to one of the cameras and in the calmest voice he could muster said, "Calm down! They're watching us through those cameras. Shoot those first."

Bluestreak nodded, now having a target, and began to pick off the cameras. In response, the unseen gunners almost immediately turned they're attention to the gray mech and opened fire all at once. Sunstreaker and Trailbreaker quickly jumped to either side of their comrade, providing a small amount of cover while they returned fire.

"So," said Sunstreaker to Jetfire almost conversationally, "You got a plan?"

"Working on it," grunted Jetfire before he picked off a gunner concealed somewhere within the remains of a once tall building. Without missing a beat another gunner took it's place and Jetfire began to suspect that no one was really at the controls of the gun.

On the other end of the plaza Mirage and Hound appeared to be having an equally difficult time. They stood back-to-back and fired all around into the surrounding buildings. They were scuffed and battered, but their wounds appeared to be minor for now. Jetfire knew that wouldn't be the case for much longer.

Jetfire was shaken from his thoughts when he heard Bluestreak yelp, followed quickly by a small explosion.

"What was in the Pit that?" yelled Trailbreaker.

The makeshift leader turned to find Bluestreak on the ground clutching his lower leg and both Trailbreaker and Sunstreaker aiming their guns at the ground. Jetfire's optics followed their barrels to the ground, where they settled on a series of covered holes. Quickly looking around, he saw that the holes covered the entire area, all the way to the street. A scan of the area showed Jetfire some very, very bad news…

"Trailbreaker! Shields, now!" Jetfire screamed as he dove for the black Autobot. As the jet scrambled to lift up Bluestreak, Sunstreaker all but jumped on top of the truck when the ground suddenly began spitting explosives at them.

A low mechanical humming sound began to emit from Trailbreaker as the air in front of him began to ripple, slowly forming a shimmering bubble around the front side of him. The grenades launching out of the ground bounced off the shield harmlessly, though every time they sent out their EMP waves the shield flickered. Trailbreaker stuck to batting the few grenades that made it through the shield away with his hands, but he really couldn't protect the area behind him where his fellow Autobots were seeking refuge.

Jetfire peeked over Trailbreaker's large and bulky shoulder; it seemed like the air itself had been replaced with horrible little explosive devices. He couldn't even see what was happening to Mirage and Hound, although he was receiving a steady flow of their status from Mirage through his internal comm. From what Mirage was telling him, they were holding their own but they couldn't keep it up forever.

Trailbreaker started to slowly back up, and the Autobots behind him backed with him. They had only gone so far when a string of bullets streamed behind them, just inches from Sunstreaker's back. As a result, all three Autobots bumped rather hastily into Trailbreaker, sending him with his arms wind wheeling forward back into the grenades. Jetfire growled in frustration loud enough to be heard over the numerous explosions. They needed to do something! If only they could just get over to the other side to grab Hound and Mirage they could just use Trailbreaker's shield to jump the wall of fire, but they'd have to be invisible to get passed the gun—

"I got it!" Jetfire yelled with a smile on his faceplate.

[_Mirage!_ The blue and white paused at the sight of the message traveling across a private network from Jetfire. [_Forward this to Hound…_

* * *

David's glee and mirth had long since faded, but his fervor had not. He had failed in taking out the gunner first and as a result most of his guns were either heavily damaged or completely destroyed. On top of that, halfway into the ambush, the jet finally noticed the cameras and the mechs began targeting them. Almost all of them were destroyed now, only two remained; one high on the roof of the Adam's Mark that was aimed squarely on the four Decepticons on one end of the plaza and a second camera deep within the parking lot that could only give a glimpse of the other two Decepticons on the other side. 

No matter, he could still take care of them as long as he had at least one camera, and even then, there were other methods for this kind of scenario. As long as they stayed within the plaza David could take his time wearing them down until they would finally become exhausted and give up, like so many before.

Or so he thought until the black truck seemed to be doing something rather alarming to David. Pressing his face close to the monitor, the human realized that the EMP grenades were bouncing off it, or rather off in front of it. The bastard had a shield! Somewhere in the back of David's mind he felt a pang of worry; he had never dealt with a Decepticon that had a force field to protect itself and found himself at quite a loss at how to handle it.

But then he noticed the other three mechs huddled behind the truck and experimentally ran a string of bullets behind them. Sure enough, the bullet passed through and nicked the yellow Lamborghini and they all scuttled closer up against the big black mech, the Lamborghini cursing loudly. So, the truck's force field only protected the area in front of him. Good to know.

Spinning a little black knob on the control panel in front of him, David watched as the grid below the plaza began shifting all it's fury on the front of the truck, slowly sending it and the other three Decepticons back towards the flames. Out of the corner of his eye, David saw the green jeep fall to the ground in a lifeless heap.

_Ha! I don't need a stinking camera! _David thought smugly to himself. The gunner cried out to the fallen jeep but it was hard to hear what it said exactly over the sound of the explosions. Within seconds the mechs on the flickering monitor screen found themselves back-to-back with the wall of fire strong enough to melt their armor. The Lamborghini seemed to be the first to realize this because it started pounding on the back of the helm of the truck. David didn't try to suppress the dark smile that crept across his face.

But that same smile quickly disappeared when the truck suddenly turned to face the fiery wall of death. It then took hold of the arm of the Lamborghini and the waist of the gunner, the Lamborghini protesting loudly. The jet clamped on to the truck's shoulders and with a mighty leap, the black mech dove into the flames. David nearly let out an incredulous gasp at the truck's suicidal jump, taking his friends with him, until he noticed the flames bulging out and away from the truck.

_That damn force field!_

Out of the edge of the camera, David watched as the mechs stumbled away from the flames and quickly transformed. He didn't see them make their getaway, as they were out of the cameras range at that point, but he did hear the roar of the jet's engines. Unlike David's failure with breakdown, he did not feel his heart sink as the Decepticons ran. Sure, he would have loved to have killed them all, but he did manage to get one, and after all that had occurred in the last few months, David could not have been happier.

In hindsight, the young man knew he should have waited at least an hour after the mechs ran away to go up and start stripping their fallen comrade of materials, just in case their bravado renewed and they came back looking for revenge, but at that point David just didn't care. However small this victory was, it was still a victory. It meant one less Decepticon on the face of the Earth in the name of all the people he'd ever lost, and that made him proud.

Turning another knob on the control panel, David turned off the pipelines feeding the flames around the plaza and watched them smolder out of existence. He then sprang up from his place on the floor, hitched up his sagging baggy pants and happily splashed his way down the tunnel like a kid, leapt over the raised platform in the commons area, and shimmied his way up the ladder, dancing a jig all the way.

The human brazenly shot his head out of the manhole in the middle of the street much like gopher, with the biggest shit-eating grin ever known to mankind splayed across his face. Pushing his hands on the surface of the road, he hauled his long body up with so much force he stumbled forward a little after planting his boots on the ground. Quickly righting himself, his grin grew ever wider at the sight of the dead green metal in the corner of the plaza.

David cackled loudly as if the thing could still hear, his southern accent sounding in full swing, "Ha! I got 'chu! I got 'chu, ya sonuva bitch! What a beautiful freakin' day it is! Ha ha!"

And the human resumed dancing his jig, slapping his knees, whooping, and bounding forward every once and again as he made his way towards his fallen enemy as the morning sun began to peek over the once tall buildings.

The young man, after a considerable amount of dancing and noise, finally reached the side of the giant metal alien and stood with his hands on his hips. He whistled as he surveyed all the metal and materials the Decepticon would provide him. He'd be able to rebuild his guns and with the right wiring, maybe even rebuild the cameras.

Still smiling, David began to dig around in his pockets for his magnesium blade to cut metal with, but froze as a shadow began to take form from seemingly nowhere and fall over him. In the cool morning light, David felt sweat form on the back of his neck.

_Shit! The racecar! _

The human spun around on the ball of his heel and almost fell backwards at the sight of half of the giant Decepticon's body ripple out from the air. These certainly were the craftiest Decepticons David had ever faced; first force fields, now cloaking devices. The human was surprised again when the supposedly dead jeep began to stir and rise.

_He was playing possum! _David's mind shrieked. Before David could react or even think of reacting, a pair of giant dark blue hands fell and cupped over him, encasing him in darkness and trapping him like a rat. David immediately fell with his backside to the ground and stared dumbly up at his prison. The early sun poked through joints like little specks of white but did little to disperse the darkness. Outside he could hear metal shifting and creaking.

"Did'ja get it?" a voice asked.

"Yes, I have it. Call Jetfire back," another answered.

"What the _slag_ was all that?"

If the aliens' conversation continued after that, David didn't hear it. Instead of panic gripping his mind, it was anger: sheer, white-hot anger. David no longer saw the white-speckled darkness surrounding him, or anything at all. Mechanically, he whipped out his magnesium blade and in one fluid and precise movement, David jammed the searing hot blade into the nearest joint and dug it in deep. It hissed and smoked, then there was a startled shout high above him, and the veil of darkness lifted. Blinking the sun out of his eyes, the human gazed up at the giants around him.

He was unsure how long he had spent in the racecar's grasp, but apparently it was long enough for the other four Decepticons to rejoin the party. David's fury ebbed but now it was coupled with panic; he had faced drones in person but never Decepticons. The towering mechanoids and the much smaller human stared at each other for a beat, before David dashed towards the manhole as if the devil himself was on his back.

"Get it! Get it!" one of them shouted hastily behind him. David slid to a halt when a giant grey and black foot blocked his path. Backpedaling his boots across the pavement, David changed directions.

"I got it!" a quivering voice sounded high over David's head and again the young man found himself face to face with a pair of metal hands coming at him. He twisted and dodged and evaded them in such a way it almost looked like it was choreographed. He ran between legs and in same cases laid completely flat on the street to avoid overhead swipes. The Decepticons around him ran in circles, bumping into each other in their haste to catch the creature running around their feet and cursing all the while. The whole situation probably would have been hilarious if David hadn't felt his life was at stake.

The young man began to grow confident and thought of singing insults to them as would the Gingerbread Man of his childhood. He would've fought of the hands reaching for him with his magnesium blade but it was still currently lodged in the digit joints of the left hand of the racecar, so he opted to dodge them instead with a flurry of twists and lunges.

He was getting close to the manhole now, just a few more yards and he'd be home free, just like the cartoon rabbit he watched years ago on TV, when it would taunt the hunter with clever jokes before swan diving into the safety of his hole. Twirling away from another giant stamping foot, David was almost in leaping distance.

The human crouched down and as a last-ditch effort, jumped with all the strength he had forward. For a moment, it seemed as though he would make it until something hard crashed against his back while he was still in mid-air and shoved him into the hard ground. David felt his breath escape his lunges, and he gasped loudly in an attempt to refill them.

"Got it huh, Blue? Seemed like you were just crashing into me over and over again!" a nearby and angry voice David recognized as the Lamborghini said. At first he thought that whoever had him, had him under a foot. But David realized that whatever was pinning him down was rounded, not flat. It was a finger holding him down, and with his face currently pressed into the concrete, David could not look up and see which one was holding him.

"I'm sorry, I thought I had it. But it was just moving so fast and it's so small, I didn't want to kill it. What else could I have done? I didn't know you were prepared to jump and reach over Hound to get it. Had I known, I would've done it much—"

"Shut up! Primus!"

"Will you get offa me already?!" inquired a muffled and irritated third voice. There was some shifting and the finger over David's back wobbled a bit, but didn't lessen in pressure. The world seemed to crawl by then, as there was an intense moment of silence, stronger than the silence David had felt when he was alone with Breakdown, and the human waited almost patiently to be smushed into the pavement like an ant.

It wouldn't be so bad, David told himself. He'd had a good run after all didn't he? He survived the apocalypse, lived to see and fight aliens, helped countless people, and got to play with explosives. Now he would die and enjoy a brief reunion with his family and lost friends before God remembered David never believed in Him and sent him to Hell for everlasting eternity. Ah, religion.

A giant white hand slamming into the road inches from David's head broke the man from his thoughts. He tried to look up to the body connected to the arm and hand, but with the pressure on his back he was unable to look any further than the forearm.

"Why did you attack us?" asked a stern voice over David's head. It sounded a bit aggravated, but then again David did try to kill them. He probably would've been pissed too.

David grunted, "If you're going to kill me, get it over with already."

If he was going to go down, he was going to go down with an attitude dammit. He tried to push himself up with his arms so he could get a better look at his interrogator, but the force on his back increased and he flopped back onto the concrete with another grunt.

The hand in front of him formed a fist and pounded the ground, sending small bits of rock and asphalt flying onto the back of David's head. The human winced and buried his face into the ground as far as he could to shield his eyes from flying debris.

"I'll ask you again; why did you attack us?" the livid voice demanded again, this time a faint hint of static crackling at the edges.

David's short patience broke and before he could stop himself he yelled, "Why do you think you Decepticon bastard?!" and braced himself for the death that was certain to follow.

But none came. Nothing happened, not even the finger on his back pushed down harder. Cautiously, the man cracked an eye open.

"We're not Decepticons…" a docile voice murmured.

David barked a laugh that quickly became a wheeze as he tried to push more air into his stressed lungs.

"Oh really? What brings you here then? The scenery?" he asked sardonically, as it was clear that manners and humble hospitality were long gone out the window.

"We're here to _fight_ Decepticons," answered the voice of the Lamborghini behind David with a hint of disdain and a slight push.

"Then who are you?" the human inquired the same way one patiently asks a child where they found a strange piece of candy. There was another brief and heavy silence, broken only by the slight shifting of metal. David watched the fist in front of him clench and unclench with uncertainty.

Then finally, "Let it up."

David gasped in relief as the pressure removed itself from his back and welcomed with great ferocity the air into his lungs. He coughed a bit and slowly sat himself up with a groan. The old bruise from the rock that jabbed in his back certainly would be renewed, and far larger than before. He hissed in pain as the cool morning air stung his cheek, and David realized that the pavement must've given him a lovely kiss.

"'He,'" David said after a while, almost as an afterthought and still wheezing.

"What?"

He looked up to finally face his interrogator, who happened to be the red and white jet.

"'He', not 'It'," he explained.

The kneeling metal figure above him nodded, and lowered itself further so that it would relatively eye level with the sitting human. It made David uncomfortable and he shifted uneasily in his place. He had grown so used to fighting, killing, and hating the thing before him, and he never imagined he would ever be in such a situation with one, let alone six.

"What is your designation?" it asked, gentler than it had before.

David only stared dumbly at it for a moment. "I'm from Houston."

"He means your name," interjected the Lamborghini in an annoyed tone. David could have sworn that if it had had eyes, it would have rolled them at him.

"Oh, I'm David,"

"Are you the one who sent out the distress beacon?"

Again, David stared. Did he send out a distress beacon? No…not him, the people who ran the Dallas Safe Point before him, the ones who built it all after the initial invasion. They sent out the signal in hopes of reaching someone or something that could help. Who'd have thought it would actually work? It might have been fifteen years late, but it worked.

The small human shook his head. "I didn't, I didn't even know if was still sending out a signal," he answered.

The jet rumbled, though David wasn't sure if it was displeasure or acknowledgment. It exchanged glances with one of the mechs behind David. And for the first time, David turned to truly take in the sight of the giants around him and felt his breath leave him once again. Fighting drones was nothing like being in the presence of a fully functioning mech, as drones were much smaller and typically did not transform. In the back of his conditioned mind, the human felt a twinge of fear and nervousness that always accompanied the sight of a Decepticon…but these were not Decepticons, or so they said.

"We call ourselves Autobots," said the jet carefully, returning David's attention to it. "We're here to fight the Decepticons that have taken over your planet in the hopes to drive them from it," it explained.

"You're not the first mechs to say you're not with the Decepticons," he said, narrowing his eyes at the giant alien in front of him.

Again the jet exchanged glances with the others before looking back down at the human. It seemed to be lost in thought for a moment before it finally backed up a bit and pointed to the red insignia in the center of it's chest.

"This," the jet replied, "is the symbol of our faction. It means we fight for the right of sentient beings and that we will stop the Decepticons. No Autobot bears the purple emblem you are probably familiar with."

David scrutinized the symbol as best he could from his place on the ground. Sure enough all the mechanoids in the past that claimed to not be allies with the Decepticons still bore their purple symbol somewhere on their person, and none of the mechanoids currently around David wore that symbol. Theirs were red and square, while the Decepticons always displayed the purple and triangular symbol.

"Okay, so…can I ask you another question?" David asked in a monotonous voice. The jet nodded, and in the same strange monotonous voice David had used with Jeb in the control room, he asked, "What took you so long?"


	9. Uncomfortable First Meetings

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Transformers. All recognizable characters are the property of HasTak. All unrecognizable ones are the intellectual property of yours truly; their theft is punishable by severe voodoo-induced pain in any and all sensitive organs of the body, followed by eternal damnation.

Because, you know, stealing is wrong. (Which is funny because I totally ganked this disclaimer from Vaeru, with her permission of course.)**  
**

* * *

**Rated:** T. For mild cursing, violence, and other adult themes that will probably ensue. 

**Author Notes:** This chapter was so ridiculously hard to write. I wish I could slap David over the head for being so uncooperative. However, I did see "I Am Legend" this past weekend and I highly recommend watching it. (If you're into freaky Zombie Vampires.) It gave me a lot of inspiration for later chapters. I'm also going to The Rockies on Saturday for skiing so I'll definitely be takin' notes.

* * *

**Contra Mundum **

**Chapter Nine**

* * *

_**Dr. Eric Foreman:** "You assaulted that man!"  
**Dr. Gregory House:** "Fine. I'll never do it again."  
**Dr. Eric Foreman:** "Yes you will."  
**Dr. Gregory House:** "All the more reason this debate is pointless."_

_**-House M.D**_

* * *

The jet didn't answer David's question at first. There had been an awkward silence, as the human had obviously caught the Autobot off guard. Instead, the jet decided to introduce himself as well as the other mechs still surrounding David. Jetfire was the jet's name (big surprise) and he introduced the others who continued to stand uncomfortably close to the human at their feet, aside from Mirage who preferred to linger in the back. It wasn't hard to guess why; they didn't want a repeat of David's colorful sense of revenge. 

It annoyed David greatly, and made him slightly jittery. But he tolerated it, sat down with his legs crossed and his hands beside him to show them he had no intention of attacking them again. But he couldn't help looking around nervously from mech to mech, flinching at every movement, twitching at every noise, and shuffling away when one of them got too close. It was nothing short of a miracle that David didn't whip out his magnesium blade again when Trailbreaker had chosen to sit down as well, creating quite a bit of noise and jolting the man.

David, despite his anxiety, sat and listened patiently to Jetfire as he spoke of the war on his planet, the struggle for resources, the creation of the factions, and ultimately why both Decepticons and Autobots had come to Earth. Every now and then David would interrupt to ask a few questions, but for the most part he remained silent. He listened to Jetfire speak of their leader called Optimus Prime and of Megatron, who led the Decepticons. By the time the jet finished his speech the sun was already passed the highest point in the sky and the cool air of the morning had long since evaporated. David continued to sit in defiance of the sun's rays, as they burned into the back of his neck and gave the red and white mech in front of him a harsh glare. He refused to believe a single word that escaped the Autobot.

Sure, Jetfire and the others had spared David's life when they could've easily snuffed it out, and they certainly still could at any moment. Jetfire also kneeled to talk to David, he didn't speak over him nor did he treat him like the horrid little rodent the Stunticons did. If anything, he appeared to try and speak to the human on an equal level. But Decepticons in the past had deceived humans, posing as traitors to their leaders and offering help to the poor little organics. David also knew the Decepticons sought to utilize every energy resource they could find on the planet, and with humans running around sucking up said resources, they had a rather violent disposition towards mankind. These "Autobots" might just be trying to use David to find larger groups of humans to wipe out.

"So, I'm to understand that ya'll are here to help us out?" David asked in a flat tone. From somewhere behind him, someone echoed, "'Ya'll'?" to which David slowly reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh. Robots were just as bad as Yankees.

"Yes," answered Jetfire simply, interrupting David's thoughts.

"Ok. So, where are the rest of you?"

"I'm sorry?"

The human sighed again; his frustration was beginning to build at an alarming rate. He stood up but tried to remain as much in the center of the circle as possible, even denying himself the relief of standing in the cool shade of Bluestreak's shadow. "The rest of you, as in 'the rest of your army'. You said yourself that there's a whole lot more of you. Well, they're coming right? There are only six of you here,"

"We're it," said Trailbreaker before Jetfire could answer, and the makeshift leader shot the truck a glare. "Sorry," he added sheepishly towards Jetfire.

The young man didn't even try to suppress his laugh. "Six bots against a planet of Decepticons?" He asked incredulously. Maybe these weren't Decepticons after all, because even they weren't that stupid. After fifteen years of hell, help finally reaches Earth and it turns out to be suicidal. How horrendously poetic.

At David's question, Mirage made a noise that may have been the robotic version of someone clearing their throat, though it really didn't sound anything like that at all. It was more like a mixture of grinding metal and static, and it made David wince at the noise.

"There are not as many Decepticons occupying your planet as you may think. That is part of their tactic, and it is easiest employed over organic species. There are more drones on your planet than mechs," he said matter-of-factly. Throughout the exchange between man and machine, the blue racecar had been lingering in the back nursing the wound in his hand he received from David, which the man had yet to even start feeling bad about.

"Then what are you doing here with me?" the human inquired suspiciously.

This time, it was Hound who answered him. "Your distress beacon was the closest for us to answer. We couldn't exactly answer all the signals we saw so we figured we'd try to do it systematically." Out of the corner of his eyes, David saw Jetfire throw his hands up in annoyance and the he tried very hard, and with little success, not to smile from it. "We'd hoped ya'll would be happy to receive some help."

"I think you can hardly blame us," David said, narrowing his glare and not failing to notice the jeep's use of the term "ya'll". "For fifteen years now we've been fighting off 'Cons and every day they we lose our family and friends as they gain more control over our planet. We were never even sure aliens existed before they showed up and suddenly, BAM! We're all runnin' for our lives and scratchin' out a living in sewers, basements, and mountainsides. It's not like we had time to figure out there were more giant alien robots that had separate ideals from them," the human continued, not bothering to care that his accent was beginning to resurface.

"Which brings me back to my earlier question: What the hell took ya'll so long if you say you live to stop these creeps? Fifteen years for Christ's sake! We didn't have the knowledge or the technology to stand up to them and had to figure it out the hard way after millions of people died. Maybe even billions! There used to be so much more of us… Now we're lucky if our numbers reach the upper thousands. We barely have any way to communicate with each other except bein' face-to-face, 'cause we don't have the luxury of being giant-ass robots with internal communication systems. We don't even know if there's any life to be found in Europe or Asia, or if Australia even exists anymore! Did ya'll just sit around twiddlin' your oversized thumbs until you got bored then decided to get off your asses?!"

David knew he had probably over-stepped the line, he knew that he was swimming in unknown territory and close proximity with six individuals who were much, much bigger than him and that with every word he was probably aggravating each of them more and more. Perhaps if David had more control, he could've schmoozed with them more, milked further information out of them, and maybe in some other universe he could've managed to outwit them and escape.

But as the human continued to rant, he found himself becoming angrier and angrier. Angry at everything that had happened since the incursion, angry at every hardship and every death. Angry at the Decepticons, at the "Autobots", at God, and at everything else in the world that was in control where he wasn't. The man had never been truly angry in his life, especially in recent years because rage invited irrationality and that was something no human could afford. But now, he was so livid he didn't care that each word that blitzed passed his lips might cause his skull to be smashed into the concrete. He didn't even notice his arms shaking or the numbness in his hands caused by his too tightly clenched fists.

"It's a war _you_ started isn't it? The least you could do is have the decency to take responsibility for it and help those who are getting killed because of _your_ choices!"

If David had not stepped over the line before, he certainly had now. He hadn't just stepped over it, he blew right by it as if it was nothing, and he could tell this fact by the sudden change of facial expressions on all the mechs. During his rant they had all shown sullen expressions of guilt, aside from Sunstreaker; who lingered next to Mirage and looked indifferent to just about everything. But with the utterance of David's last few sentences, the mechs bristled noticeably and Sunstreaker suddenly snapped his fin-adorned helm in his direction.

In all of two seconds, the bright yellow Lamborghini shoved his way to the edge of the circle, crouched down low, and pushed his pristine silver face alarmingly close to David. The only thing that kept the human from scrambling backwards was that he would have only hit his back against Jetfire's foot.

"You think your planet is the only to suffer?" Sunstreaker snarled, static distorting the edges of his voice. "You think you're the only ones who've got it rough? You should be grateful we even showed up! There are plenty others who won't be receiving any help and even more who never did!"

"Then what brings you_here_, huh?" David demanded angrily and shoving forward back at the face instead of cowering back from it. He made a living killing Decepticons, dammit. He wasn't going to let a painfully bright-colored robot bully him around. "If there's so many out there who need your help, who need it more than Earth, then why aren't you hopskippin' over to those planets?"

By this time, Jetfire had clearly had enough. He stepped over David, who jumped a good couple of feet in the air, and roughly shoved Sunstreaker away from the human. The large yellow mech looked as if he was ready to return the favor but a stern look from the jet halted Sunstreaker's movements. David had a sneaking suspicion that they were probably still communicating with each other, though neither was speaking.

Just as David's patience was about to snap, Jetfire finally returned his attention to him, though the look on his face imparted to the human that the Autobot was still sore from his rather insensitive remark.

"We're under no obligation to divulge our purposes to you. You can either accept our help or not. I'm sure there are others here on this planet that would not be opposed to some much needed aid," Jetfire said in an icy tone.

_Fat chance o' that_, David thought sourly to himself.

"What are the chances others of your kind will react the same way to us as you did?" Bluestreak asked after a brief moment, almost in response of David's thoughts. The question itself almost took David by surprise; he had practically forgotten the gunner was even there.

"Pretty good," he answered with a dark chuckle. "Of course there'll probably be more to deal with than just me."

Hound let out a wheeze that sounded awfully close to a groan and Mirage hissed to Jetfire, "It'd be easier if we could convince _this one,_" obviously not wanting to relive his painful first meeting with a human.

"Or we could just forget the whole thing and go back to the front lines where we're actually needed," Sunstreaker suggested with a glare in Jetfire's direction.

"Sunstreaker, I know you're antsy to get back to your brother but if we don't stop the flow of resources to Decepticons this war will never end. We're needed most _here_," the jet answered, pointing towards the ground to emphasize his point. If looks could kill, then Jetfire would've been immolated on the spot by the death glare Sunstreaker gave him. David wasn't really paying attention to that though, he was too dumbfounded at the idea of robots having siblings.

With his mind still reeling, David somehow managed to sputter out, "If there's only six of you here, and you don't plan on going back, then what exactly is your plan?" He placed his hand on his head, pushing the question concerning mechanical kin to the back of his mind for later. Jetfire hesitated for a moment, his blue optics flickering down to David, and the human could have sworn he saw the same kind of fear in his metallic face that lies within someone who knows something terrible that another doesn't.

"David," he said in a tone David decided was much too calm for his liking. "There is a chance for your species to reclaim your planet. Despite the large number of drones on your planet, you and your people still outnumber them to a large extent. The sheer number of distress signals alone would be enough to give the Decepticons here a considerable amount of grief."

"It is not as hopeless as you think. That is part of Decepticon tactic: to divide and conquer. If you help us, help us connect and gather your people, we have a winning chance of taking back this planet. You know the terrain, you know where the Decepticons are centered, and you clearly know how to fight them," Jetfire said with a nod in Mirage's direction. The racecar only responded with a grunt.

Once again the thin man furrowed his brow in the red and white jet's direction. He had to admit; the mech could act. David very much wanted to believe him, but the thought of grasping onto some shred of hope, only to have it taken away once more was too much for him.

The world was gone now; there were barely any humans left. That was an idea David had been convinced was real for so long now. Earth was infested with Decepticons, what humans were left had no chance against them, even with the helpful technology and knowledge they possessed. There was no point in trying was there? There couldn't possibly be…

"How many actual Decepticons are on Earth?" David asked in a strange and quiet voice.

Jetfire turned to Bluestreak, who tilted his chevron-adorned head in thought.

"With the Stunticons working in the Western Hemisphere, the Insecticons in the Eastern, plus Octane and Shockwave, that creates a total of eleven actual mechs. As for drones, I can't really say. They wouldn't be too hard to get rid of though. They're pretty shottily made, what with the 'Cons cutting corners, and they're dumb as slag and­—"

"There are only eleven Decepticons on my planet?" David asked, cutting off Bluestreak with a quivering voice.

"Well it looks like there used to be twelve, but it seems like you already gave Blitzwing a hearty hello quite some time ago," Trailbreaker said leaning over to nudge the rusting remains of a previously unknown Decepticon David had killed years ago. Weeds and ivy curled lovingly around joints and limbs of the fallen Triple Changer.

"There's…there's only eleven? So few did this much?" David asked again, his voice quaking even more, yet in a higher pitch and softer volume. The angry scowl was gone from his face, replaced by a blank wide-eyed stare directed towards the ground. The mechs around him shifted uneasily, looking at one another and waiting for someone to break the nervous silence.

The shaking in David's voice traveled to his arms, then his knees, and suddenly it became very hard to breathe. How could only a handful of Decepticons wreak this much hell? It couldn't be true. No, it wasn't true. There had to be more. The entire human race could not have possibly buckled and folded under only _eleven_ Decepticons.

"I…" the human finally said, his body still shaking and his head wandering on his neck to find something to focus on, anything but the beings who stood high above him. "I need to think."

He turned away from Jetfire and walked towards the manhole on unsteady long legs, taking each step slow and one at a time. He didn't notice Hound and Bluestreak step away from the hole, or Sunstreaker shouting protests. He slipped into the dark hole, slowly climbed down the rungs of the rusty and slimey ladder, and began to walk into his haven dragging his feet all the while.

"This can't be true."

* * *

**Author's Notes Continued: **Ok, because I've been getting a few messages concerning it, let me explain about the number eleven. I did some research on the Insecticons and found that although I like the group composed of Bombshell, Kickback and Shrapnel, I felt that Barrage, Chop Shop, Ransack, and Venom would do a better job. So, that's five Stunticons, four Insecticons, and two others. Eleven.

Happy Holidays everyone.


	10. Monsters in the Dark

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Transformers. All recognizable characters are the property of HasTak. All unrecognizable ones are the intellectual property of yours truly; their theft is punishable by severe voodoo-induced pain in any and all sensitive organs of the body, followed by eternal damnation.

Because, you know, stealing is wrong. (Which is funny because I totally ganked this disclaimer from Vaeru, with her permission of course.)**  
**

* * *

**Rated:** T. For mild cursing, violence, and other adult themes that will probably ensue.

* * *

**Contra Mundum **

**Chapter Ten**

* * *

_"Why does anyone lie? Cause we're scared or crazy or just mean? There's a million reasons why a person lies. But sometimes you tell a lie so big that it changes your whole life.."_

_**-Willy Jack Pickens, Where The Heart Is**_

* * *

The commons room seemed different now, even though absolutely nothing had been physically changed. The generator on the side of the room however, seemed to be more labored than usual. It was sputtering and setting off quite a lot of sparks. Soon it would die completely and David would either have to do what he could to fix it or go find a new one. 

Not that any of that mattered.

Aside from the generator, the crappy fluorescent light still flickered and water still dripped from an unknown source above and within the ceiling, slowly forming slimey wet trails that all led down through into the darkness that was the second right-hand tunnel. Green algae traced the edges of the trails, and made them highly unpleasant to touch.

David stood for a while in the entryway of the commons area, with his back slumped forward and his arms hanging heavily at his sides. He wanted to be alone. He wanted to be somewhere quiet. Unfortunately, the generator seemed to be doing a good job of destroying any sort of peace that could be held in the commons area. With an annoyed grunt, the man turned towards his room at the end of the far left tunnel.

But once again, David realized that he would find no blissful silence even in his own room. Through the thick concrete over his head, he could just barely make out the sound of muffled voices. It wasn't very loud, but it was enough to nag him in the back of his mind. The man's face twisted and contorted into a deep frown; he did not even want to be remotely reminded of the presence of his unwelcome guests.

There was no other place in the Safe Point where David would find stillness. The generator in the commons area could very well explode at any moment, the voices of the last individuals he would ever want to see could be heard in his room, the machines in the control room would be just as bad as the generator, and the storerooms were far too cramped for the tall human. David plopped down defeated onto the cool floor of his room. God, he just wanted a moment. Just one quiet moment so he could forget everything.

There was one other place though, David gradually realized. He grimaced; it was not an area of the Safe Point he was particularly fond of, though it had always been vital for his survival. Despite this, dark childhood fears always compelled him to stay away from it unless he absolutely had to: the reservoir at the end of the second right-hand tunnel.

The reservoir had been there before the Safe Point had been passed on to David, and it may have been there even before the Safe Point was established. Rainwater and the trickling of old broken water lines that once fed into apartments and business buildings constantly supplied the black underground lake. How big and deep it was, David never knew. There was no light there, and the beam of a flashlight was swallowed by the heavy darkness after only a few feet.

The first time David had ever been there was when he was still traveling with other humans as a teenage boy. Jeb had brought him up to Dallas from Houston, against his wishes. It was still early in the invasion and safe passages from Safe Point to Safe Point were still being mapped out. Traveling was dangerous and slow, and humans were still easy pickings for eager Decepticons. With a shove his large guardian sent the scrawny runt of a teenager down the second tunnel from the right to fetch some water.

David still remembered his first trip down there. How scared he had been, and how angry he had been at himself for being scared. Jessie stopped being afraid of the dark when she was five and there he was at the age of thirteen scuttling down a murky tunnel with his heart trying to hammer its way out of his chest. He came to the water's edge and shined his flashlight out onto the basin. He had seen no end to black water, and the glow of his flashlight disappeared beneath its surface revealing nothing of its depth. In his young and imaginative mind, a foolish fear whispered thoughts of a horrible monster bursting from the water and dragging him under to some unfathomable fate.

It was now fifteen years later and the human _still_ heard the irrational fear mewling in the back of his brain every time he shuffled his nervous feet down the damned second right-hand tunnel.

There was a dull thud somewhere above David's head, and a muffled voice increased in volume. The mechs on the street above were bickering. The man groaned; he _really_ needed to be somewhere quiet.

With no small amount of reluctance, David picked his tired body up, and dragged his feet down the dreaded dark tunnel. He kept to the edge, just like he always did, though this time he didn't care to use his flashlight. It was all the way back in the control room anyway. Instead, David trailed his hand across the slick surface of the wall, constantly reminding himself of the actual geography of the passageway to keep thoughts of boogeymen away. The feeling of the algae under his hands made him want to wrench his hand away and squirm until the memory of it faded.

Focusing so hard on trying to keep himself calm, David did not realize how far he had come until the tip of his boot splashed into the edge of the water. With a gasp, he jumped backwards before letting out a sigh of relief, partly for there not having been someone nearby to witness his jitteriness. The thin man took several deep breaths, calming his nerves and his heart, and eased himself into a seated position with his legs crossed.

In darkness and in silence he sat. Somewhere far out in the blinding shadows, David could hear soft dripping sounds as water leaked and fed the expansive reservoir. The air was cold here and it soothed David's sun scorched skin. Perhaps it wouldn't have been such a bad idea to stand in one of the mechs shadows during their long exchange. Surely an impressive sunburn had appeared somewhere on the human's body; he really hoped it wasn't on his scalp.

David had to admit; it was nice. He managed to force his fears into the corner of his mind and as long as he didn't humor them, they held no strength. The whole experience reminded him of a similar event from his childhood.

When he was ten years old, David and his family visited the underground caverns in Central Texas, not too far from where he resided now. It was a long walk down a boarded walkway into the gaping maw of a dark cave. As a popular tourist attraction, many other families were there with children the same age as David and others who were younger. None were younger than Jessie though, who was four at the time.

Flashlights jumbled in the dark as braver children rushed forward, only to have their arms or the backs of their shirts caught back by ever-watchful parents. As they reached a large and domed room, the guide instructed the group to turn off their flashlights and sit in silence. Younger children, and even some David's age, wailed in protest. After much shushing and convincing from parents, all flashlights went out one by one.

Some kids persisted to whimper after the lights went out and parents again tried to sooth them. Jessie whined and clutched their father's neck in a death grip. A girl next to David, younger by maybe a year or two, began to giggle. The boy turned to the direction of the sound and even though he couldn't see her, he began snigger too. Behind him, David's mother shushed him but he couldn't stop himself. The giggle spread throughout the crowd and soon the dome was filled with incessant laughing and shushing. From somewhere in front of him, David heard the guide sigh in aggravation.

He felt for the guy now, having had his fair share of "tour groups". Only he didn't take them on a fun-filled trek into mesmerizing caves or beautiful forests. He tried to keep people alive and together, tried to get them somewhere safe. And he had failed many times. That was to be expected, of course. "Can't win them all," as the saying goes.

Mimicking the guide from all those years ago, David let out a long and tired sigh that echoed across the water of the reservoir. He fought down a surge of guilt that bubbled up at his last thought. It came up anyways, and popped out as a strange sounding hiccup. The man cupped a hand over his mouth and leaned forward with a groan.

What should he do now? There was a handful of mechs just above his head offering help and waiting for him. It was late and it wasn't much, but it was still help they were offering.

_That's if they're telling the truth,_ David reminded himself. Over the years, he had received many warnings over the telegraph concerning Decepticons posing as traitors and offering help. It always ended the same way: some idiotic sap would fall for it and lead said Decepticon to a Safe Point, which was soon obliterated, people and all.

He wouldn't risk that, not David. There were not many Safe Points left anymore and any between Dallas and the Rockies were small. The mechs would want to be lead to the nearest and biggest settlement, which would be Oasis. The next biggest would be Endicott, and that wasn't far from Oasis. All the settlements in the Rockies weren't far from each other and if one went down, the rest would fall like dominos. He needed to lead them away, far away. Even if it meant getting himself killed.

That meant David needed to lead them south. Decepticons typically did not travel north if they didn't need too. The cold affected their bodies and their scanners, plus there was more energy to be reaped from warmer climates like the tropics. This fact allowed humans to dig out a living in the mountains in the Rockies and further into northern Canada, and even into the Arctic Circle. Mountains were more ideal however, because they were less harsh than the Arctic Circle, the forests provided excellent cover, and the terrain made it impossible to be followed by anything on four wheels.

The Decepticons must be getting desperate to eliminate the problem humans posed as a waste of resources if they were willing to go into the mountains and suffer the cold. Well, that was just too damn bad.

David didn't remember much of the geography or the terrain of the coast or the land further south into Mexico, but he did remember the area in and around what once was Houston. Major landmarks and buildings would be altered now and it was very dangerous being so close to the coast, but he should still remember the way.

_I've been meaning to go back home anyways,_ the human thought wryly to himself with a smile.

His scheming was abruptly interrupted when a huge splash rang out in the darkness beyond the concrete shore. It was close too. David flung himself backwards and let out a noise he never knew a grown man could make.

Arms wind-milling, fearfully scuttling backwards, David slipped on the damned algae before sprinting all the way down the tunnel towards the common area and never once looked back.

* * *

"You let him go?!" shrieked Sunstreaker angrily, throwing his hands outward into the air. "Did you forget the big welcoming party he threw for us?" 

"Didn't you see him after he found out almost his entire race was killed off by only a few Decepticons? You probably would've needed to be left alone for a while too," Jetfire countered defensively.

"He needs to have his alone time regardless," muttered Bluestreak. In response, Sunstreaker sent him a glare that could've sent the very air on fire. The gunner wisely took a step backwards and out of arm's reach.

"This is stupid!" Sunstreaker announced while still glowering in Bluestreak's direction. "Why are we still standing here? We're just handing him a wonderful second chance to try and kill us and I am _not_ going through all that again!"

The Lamborghini held out an arm to Jetfire.

"Look at that! See all those scratches and little dents? They might not be so small next time! We should go back to where we're actually _needed!"_

"Look around, Sunstreaker. See the lack of intelligent life, the crumbling structures? I think this qualifies as 'in need'," the jet explained in a stern voice. He was very quickly losing his patience with the yellow warrior. Inwardly, Jetfire sighed with relief that Sunstreaker didn't wail about his damaged paint job any more than he already had.

"And furthermore, if you had been spending less time whining about being apart from your brother and your paintjob, you would have noticed the numerous sources of energy on this planet." He pointed a white hand skyward. "This planet's sun alone generates enough energy to supply an entire unit! This planet is most likely the reason the Decepticons have not been slowing down. They have a constant energy source while we do not."

"Won't do any good if the locals don't want us here," Hound pointed out. The other Autobots didn't fail to notice his adoption of the accent the organic had spoken with, but they didn't point it out either.

Jetfire then, fell eerily quiet. But the look on his faceplate said it all. Almost all at once, each of his fellow Autobots nodded in understanding and Bluestreak's optics went wide. If they relinquished the planet from Decepticon control and the locals still opposed, they would have to play the role their enemies did and occupy this world. None of them liked the idea of it, and certainly no Autobot would. But they were fighting a losing battle and they had to do what they could to survive, especially in regards to such a valuable energy source.

It wouldn't have been the first time they had to.

"You guys are really, really loud," said an annoyed voice below the mechs.

Jetfire almost jumped back in surprise. Poking up out of the small hole in the ground was the upper body of the organic that had almost killed them all. The jet sank back down onto one knee and leaned towards his level.

"David, you came back."

"Of course I came back," replied the small creature gruffly as he heaved the rest of his body out of the hole. Strapped across his back was a long piece of curved metal Jetfire recognized as a portion of armor. The makeshift leader repressed a grimace: Decepticon or not, he really didn't want to imagine how David came into possession of the thing. Jetfire continued to watch curiously as David reached down again and pulled up a hefty (compared to his size anyway) sack. The mechs surrounding the hole took several steps back to allow more room.

"What is all that?" he asked, gesturing to another sack the human heaved up.

"What's it look like? I'm on board with you guys," he replied nonchalantly. Almost immediately, all the tension in the air evaporated. Bluestreak and Hound looked to each other and smiled in relief. Even Sunstreaker seemed less cross. Though in all honesty, the jet wasn't sure if there was ever a moment when the warrior wasn't cross.

"You're going to help us?" asked Trailbreaker hesitantly.

"Mmhmm," the human murmured followed by a sudden air intake. "You gotta plan?"

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Ok, here's the issue with the reservoir. The thing was there before the Safe Point was made, so it used to be filled with natural underground rivers. (That probably isn't true at all for Dallas, but that's what's fun about pretend.) So there are fish swimming around in that that feed on the algae. After years of no predators, those suckers get HUGE. So that's what that splash was. No 'Con, no monster. 


	11. I Don't Want To

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Transformers. All recognizable characters are the property of HasTak. All unrecognizable ones are the intellectual property of yours truly; their theft is punishable by severe voodoo-induced pain in any and all sensitive organs of the body, followed by eternal damnation.

Because, you know, stealing is wrong. (Which is funny because I totally ganked this disclaimer from Vaeru, with her permission of course.)**  
**

* * *

**Rated:** T. For mild cursing, violence, and other adult themes that will probably ensue. 

**Author Notes:** Ok, lemme just get this out of the way real quick and let you folks get on with the chapter: I have nothing against the French. My Grandma is French. So please don't throw a hissy.

* * *

**Contra Mundum **

**Chapter Eleven**

* * *

_**Jack Beauregard:** "Folks that throw dirt on you aren't always trying to hurt you, and folks that pull you out of a jam aren't always trying to help you. But the main point is when you're up to your nose in shit, keep your mouth shut."**  
**_

_**-They Call Me Nobody**_

* * *

It was the single most uncomfortable thing David ever had to do in his life. 

After listening to Jetfire's plan, which was to gather any able-bodied humans and lead a campaign against the drones, there was the issue of travel. David had mapped out where they would be going, and it was decided that Jetfire would fly high in the air above the flight paths of the drones and act as a scout and a living GPS. The rest of the Autobots would travel together following Jetfire's directions.

The problem was, what was David to do? Although he was fast, the human would never be able to keep up with the mechs on foot whether they were in their alt modes or not. And he was violently opposed to anyone carrying him, which the Autobots came to realize when Bluestreak tried to pick him up. The gunner almost received a grenade to the face.

That left only one option: David would have ride in one of them while they were in their alt mode, an idea he did not find desirable at all. It had been years since the man had ever even been in a car. Of course, he used to have the shuttle, but he never drove it. He left it to the Runners like Jeb to drive it and haul anything from supplies to refugees.

And it wasn't just the idea that he'd be riding in a transforming mech that bothered him; that would've irked any human. It was the fact that he would be riding _inside_ something that was _alive_. The very idea ranked up there with being eaten in David's mind, and he was in no hurry to see what it was like. For some odd reason, Bluestreak again was the one who opted to tote the human, and David was really becoming suspicious of his eagerness.

Instead, after much internal conflict, the tall man chose to ride in Trailbreaker. His decision was solely based on the fact that when he was a kid, Jeb used to have a big truck, and David would often beg to ride in the back. Jeb's truck was not the same model that Trailbreaker had chosen, but out of all the mechs, his alt form was the most familiar.

Still, David stalled the actual act of climbing in as long as he could. Walking slowly to the passenger side door, he gradually allowed himself to clasp the handle. Almost immediately he yanked his hand away. Even though it was another hot day as always, the metal beneath his hand was far warmer than a normal car's would have been. Not enough to burn him, but enough to get his attention.

After the human made no move to pull the handle again, Trailbreaker graciously opened his door for him. It was just another reminder to David, that this was not just a harmless nonliving vehicle. Awkwardly hauling his long body in, David nervously slid into the passenger side seat and stashed his bags and shield in the back. It was every bit as uncomfortable as he imagined it would be. Not the seat itself nor the cab but actually being inside what he had always viewed as an enemy.

Just like the metal of the door handle, the seats were strangely warm. David sat up straight; afraid to lean into the seat due to the knowledge that the black Autobot could feel everything David touched. The human tried to make himself as small as possible. But being as tall as he was, it was not an easy task. He kept his hands in his lap and hunched over so that the top of his head did not brush the ceiling. Last thing he wanted was to accidentally tickle something and end up with his ass ejected onto the road.

But the discomfort didn't end there. When the mechs began to roll out of the city one by one, David had already prepared himself for the sight of the foot pedals and the steering wheel to operate by themselves. After all, the big truck had to move somehow. But they were not the only things to move. Practically everything could move on its own accord, including the seat David was currently sitting in. Whenever Trailbreaker exerted himself like when he tried to get over a large piece of debris or uphill, David could feel the seat under him tense up like a muscle and increase slightly in temperature.

_God, it's like being in a giant metal womb…_ David thought to himself in abhorrence.

What probably was the worst of it all was the atmosphere inside the truck. It was thick yet hyperactive. It was almost as if the air itself was electrified and made the hairs on his arms stand on end. A strange scent hung in the space of the cab; the twang of ozone mixed with lead. It took a moment for David to identify it as the smell of energon. He had only encountered the substance a few times, and had a small burn on his right hand from the first time he had come in contact with it. He also knew that it was what the Decepticons had to come to Earth to make.

"David?"

Trailbreaker's voice came from all around him: from out of the speakers, the walls, even the seat underneath him. To say that the rumbling sound had made David jump would have been a great understatement. Had he not been strapped down by the seatbelt, he probably would have shot straight through the ceiling. He expected at any moment for all of his hair to just fall off his head and flitter out of the robot-turned-vehicle as he tried to keep his body from shuddering.

"What's up, Trailbreaker?" the man hissed through clenched teeth, trying not to grip the seat under him while simultaneously resisting the increasing urge to bail out of the truck.

"Are you alright?" the large Autobot inquired with seemingly genuine concern. The Decepticons must have been taking acting classes these days.

"Why?"

"Your biological signals seem pretty stressed."

Great. Not only was David riding inside the living innards of his enemy, but also now said enemy was scanning him, constantly perhaps. David never wanted to flick his scrambler on so badly in his life, not even during his first scrape with Breakdown. Even before the invasion, the human never liked having an x-ray taken of him at the doctor's office. But these guys had not seen what his scrambler could do just yet, and he preferred they find out at a more opportune time.

"I'm fine," David answered in a flat tone that implied he didn't want any pressure put on the matter. "Shouldn't we pick up the pace a little? We need to cover as much ground as possible before night falls, and it's a long way to go," he continued in a less hostile manner. His voice must have been broadcasted to the other Autobots because they began to gradually pick up speed as they traveled closer to the southern end of the city in a single file.

Leaning his long body slightly to his right, David gazed outside the window as the crumbling remains of what he called home began to drift by. Almost no building stood uncompromised. Most that had not been reduced to rubble long ago were slowly making their way to that stage, slowly collapsing in on themselves and all covered in ivy vines and weeds. Smaller buildings were nearly completely unrecognizable. Travel was slow, the mechs having to make their way around deep depressions in the street and randomly spaced trees that had sprouted through the concrete. Trailbreaker and Hound had a major advantage over the landscape unlike Mirage and Sunstreaker, who were both forced to transform in order to move around roadblocks every so often.

They passed the CVS and the HEB that David heavily raided for a long time until all the food inside either perished or was taken by both human and animals. Bridges and overpasses were inaccessible, having given way and fallen apart a long time ago. The cars lined up in front of David easily found their way around these obstacles as Jetfire directed them from above. All communication must have been transferred through internal links, because for a long time David sat in blissful silence save for the crunching of pebbles and debris under tires.

The man let his thoughts wander, planning out his actions for when they would make it down to the coast. He doubted there would be any serious drone activity until they were deep in the city formerly known as Houston. Like Dallas, most of it had probably been leveled to make way for energy extracting facilities. According to Jeb, the refineries and factories closer to the coast around Galveston had all been converted instead of being destroyed. In order to keep both cities from being reclaimed by the ocean, the sewer system still had to exist and be maintained. Somewhere upon entering the limits of the refineries, David would have to give the Autobots the slip and make his way back up north.

There would be no going back to his Safe Point in Dallas; there was no reason to anymore. He would have to finally go to the settlements in the mountains. He had packed enough supplies to make it at least back to Austin. He would have to search for the Austin Safe Point, stop for more supplies then make his way up to Oklahoma and from there to the Rockies. Yea, he could do that. It was a long, long walk, but he could do it.

"Hey, David,"

Hound's voice suddenly coming out of Trailbreaker's speakers nearly caused said human's heart to explode from his chest. Gripping the offended area, David gradually calmed himself down. He was quickly on his way to dying of a heart attack at this pace.

"What is it, Hound?" he asked exasperatedly, almost feeling Trailbreaker's instant scan of his body.

"How come you're not speakin' the same way you were when we first met you?" the jeep asked using his adopted southern twang to emphasize his question. It made David's eyebrow twitch.

"That was my accent," he replied. "I usually don't have much of one. It comes out when I'm angry or excited."

"Does everyone on your planet talk like that? We have accents too but they're not all the same. Some bot's talk with accents similar to yours while others talk with blips or static in their voice. I don't think organics do that though," prattled Bluestreak's voice in place of Hound's.

"No not everyone talks like that," chuckled David. "Not everyone has an accent, and different regions have different accents," he explained to the gunner.

"What kind of different accents are there?" inquired Hound's voice curiously again. David paused to think for a moment, trying to remember one of the typical American accents that always bugged him.

"People from tha MeedWest sometimes talk like thees," the human responded in a high nasal voice. Laughter immediately crackled through the speakers, accompanied by a rumbling all around him. Apparently Trailbreaker thought the imitated accent was funny, too. David thought he heard Mirage chortling amidst the giggles from Hound and Bluestreak.

David continued to imitate the accents he could remember. He impersonated a Brooklyn accent, a Cajun accent, a Boston accent, and a British accent. The greatest reaction he got however was when he impersonated a French accent.

He quoted an old comedian, "Shtoopid Americahns with theer deodorahnt. Look at mah ass as Ah walk away from joo," and the immediate reaction was outrageous. Not only could David make out the sound of Jetfire's laughter, he could hear Sunstreaker cackling too. Well, so much for stealth.

After everyone finally regained control of themselves, Sunstreaker snorted through the channel, "Whoever talks like that has a huge slaggin' rock shoved up their tailpipe."

The comment (aside from the terminology) was so human it made David smile, but he refused to let himself carried away. He couldn't allow a light-hearted moment to lull him into a false sense of security. These things were not his friends, even though they acted unlike anything he'd ever seen or heard from Decepticons. He had heard 'Cons laugh before, but it was never in fun jest. It was always terrifying and cruel.

Silence fell back over the convoy, and again the man got the distinct feeling that things were being said without him hearing. It nagged him greatly; in the same way it nagged him when a refugee chose to speak in another language when they were not speaking to him. He always got the feeling that he was missing some insult or some important piece of information.

After a few minutes of waiting for anything more, David chose to go back to looking out the window. They were outside of downtown now and passing through the empty suburbs: house after house of peeling paint, dilapidated roofs, and broken windows. Vines, trees, and grass budded from every surface, enveloping every house and slowly reverting the landscape back into what it once was.

A ray of sunlight shot directly into David's eyes from between open gaps of two houses and the tall man winced before shading them with his hand. The celestial body in question was dipping steadily into the horizon, painting the western sky a vast array of reds, oranges, and pinks. If a low-angled ray weren't currently blinding him, he probably would have been able to enjoy the show.

"We can't travel at night," David announced. It was most likely that the mechs around him were already aware of this fact but he felt the need to state it anyways.

"We can see in the dark," informed Mirage. He didn't sound like he was trying to be smug, but David certainly took it that way.

"That's not the issue. Heat signatures light up in the dark like a roman candle. When the sun goes all the way down, we'll need to find a place to stop for the night," the human explained patiently. He left out that he really wanted to stop only because he hadn't slept in over twenty-four hours and he would be damned before he went to sleep inside one of the mechs.

"I'm sure we could all use a good recharge after everything from today," reverberated Trailbreaker's voice all around David. It wasn't loud, but being so close it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up.

"What's a roman candle?" asked Bluestreak's unsure voice, but David was growing much too tired to answer him.

"David makes a good point. We can't afford to be spotted by one of the Stunticons right now. The longer they don't know we're here the better, and the longer we don't have to deal with Menasor," said Jetfire over the link. "Hound, you'll be coming to the edge of a forest on your left in about a breem, we'll stop there."

"What's Menasor?" ask David to no one in particular. He had never heard of Menasor, there was a Decepticon running around he hadn't heard of yet?

"Menasor is the Decepticon that is created when all the Stunticons link up together," Mirage's voice clarified. "He is considered the sixth and strongest Stunticon."

"'Link up'? What, you mean like in Power Rangers?" blurted the man incredulously. He never knew Decepticons could link up to form new Decepticons, and this new information alarmed him a bit. Did anyone else know? Is that how New York was destroyed so quickly?

Wait a minute.

"Can you guys link up?" the human inquired cautiously. He might have to rethink his plan if he got an answer he didn't like…

"Frag no," came Sunstreaker's prompt response. David almost let out the breath he was holding all at once, but he didn't want Trailbreaker to notice. He chose to slowly release it instead.

"I don't think Sunstreaker would even let Sideswipe that close to him," came a static-filled snicker over the channel, and David could hear the Lamborghini's engine rev loudly in warning. David ran a hand over his face; these guys were going to attract any drone or large animals from miles around with all the racket they were making.

David wasn't sure how long a breem actually was, but as far as he was concerned, it was entirely too long. When the forest finally loomed in sight, the man all but dove out of Trailbreaker, yanking his bags and shield out behind him. Thankfully and gracelessly, David plopped right down on a patch of dirt as the mechs around him all pulled up and transformed. Jetfire swooped down from the sky and transformed in midair before landing in the soft earth with a thud. David couldn't help but think the jet was trying to show off a bit as he fanned dirt and dust away from his face.

By this time, the sun had disappeared beneath the western horizon and twilight had moved in. Bluestreak and Trailbreaker both activated their headlights to fully survey their surroundings. David waved his arms from his seat on the ground at them.

"Turn those off!" he hissed.

"Our scanners aren't picking up any Decepticon activity anywhere near here. They won't see it," Trailbreaker pointed out in attempt to calm the man.

"That's not it! You'll attract other things, this area is all cougar territory!" the human countered.

"Cougar?"

"Turn off your damn lights!"

And with that, the lights went off. It wasn't like anyone needed the lights to begin with, as it was a clear night with a full moon. David would be able to see just fine in the dark and he was sure the mechs had their own alien version of night vision.

"David, you don't need to be concerned about the danger of other organisms on your planet while you're with us. One of us we'll be standing guard throughout the cycle. If something comes out of the forest, we will protect you," Jetfire said calmly to the agitated human at his feet.

"Better safe than sorry," David replied, making use of the classic proverb. Jetfire titled his helmed head in response, considering the meaning of it as his optics flickered.

"Do you mind if I ask you a question David?" the leader asked in his ever-calm manner.

"Shoot."

The jet stared at the man dubiously with wide optics for a moment, as did every other Autobot around David, each bearing the same expression as their leader. It took David a moment to realize the reason why.

"Oh! Sorry, I meant 'ask away'."

"You said we're heading down to the coast, correct?"

"Yep."

"Why? The southern coast is one of three biggest centers of Decepticon activity on this continent. Organics couldn't possibly live so close to the Decepticons," the jet pointed out. At this, David grinned.

"They're underneath," he said. "What better place to hide than right under their noses? There are systems all under Houston just like the one I was in and they run deep underground."

It was a complete lie, but David had a good poker face.

And he had a better understanding of the land in that area. There could never be a deep underground system under Houston. The city was at sea level; anything deeper than a few feet underground would flood at the first sign of rain. But his new friends didn't need to know that.

"Oh, and we're not called organics," David continued. "We're humans."

"Humans," the giant red and white mech echoed.

"That's right," the man said tiredly. He rubbed the heels of his hands over his eyes. He was really feeling his exhaustion now and was unable to continue sitting up straight. His mechanical companions began to discuss who would take the first watch, but David didn't listen. Not that it really concerned him; he'd never be able to stay awake for guard duty tonight.

The man flopped over backwards, letting his back hit the dirt and his head land on one of his bags. Out of habit, he pulled his shield over his body and curled himself to fit under it, ignoring the looks and questions he got from any of the mechs. God, he was so tired and the ground felt so good even with the small rocks and roots jabbing into him. Not even a minute passed before David went out like a light.

"David?"

"_David!"_

_He turned towards the voice, searching for its source, but found no one. The building was empty. He'd been here before…but why was everything so much bigger than him? A glance down at his hands revealed the answer; everything wasn't bigger than him, he was just smaller. Younger. _

_David looked up and around himself. Yes, he had been here before…but something felt wrong. The boy wasn't sure what, but it tugged at him in the back of his mind. He walked down the aisle and looked through the empty pews. Colored morning sunlight spilled into the church through tall stained windows. The air felt cool and dry from the ever-precious air conditioner, and the faint smell of dust hung above his head. _

Where is everyone? _the thirteen-year-old thought to himself. _

"_David!" yelled a voice again, sounding like a cry for help. This time when the teenager turned around, three people sat in the pew behind him. He recognized them instantly as his family: his mother, his father, and his little sister. Jessie was asleep, leaning against their father with her face turned away from David. His parents made him uneasy. Their facial features were unclear and distorted, almost like they were constantly shifting. They stared blankly forward as if they were listening to a normal Sunday sermon that David could not see or hear._

"_Mom?" he asked cautiously. His "mother" turned towards him, raised a finger to her changing lips, and shushed him. The feeling of wrongness began to grow in his mind, like someone who knows the terrible approaching end to a horror film. _

"_Mom—" he began to say, but a sudden explosion drowned his voice out. The boy was thrown against the floor, and the windows of the church shattered all at once, showering him in a rain of broken colored glass. _

"_Dad!" he cried as he lifted his head up. His family was still there in the pew, sitting still as statues. Jessie had still yet to wake up. Didn't they see what was happening?_

_The ground was shaking now, rocking his small form back and forth. The ceiling was beginning to crumble down in big chunks. A giant piece of debris fell and landed inches from his father, destroying half the pews on that side of the church. And his family still had yet to move! David tried to get up, but the quake grew fiercer and not knocked him back down to the floor. _

_The wall of the church behind the alter was suddenly ripped away, causing the roof above to come crashing down towards David. Chunk by chunk, giant wooden beams and planks smashed into the empty pews. The boy jerked his head upwards just in time to see a giant beam hurtling towards him…_

David's eyes wrenched open and he was instantly blinded by morning light. For a heart-stopping moment, the human realized the ground below him really was moving. Instinctively he tried to jump up, but something was holding him down. He panicked, still blind and twisting and thrashing like a rabid cat, ripping and clawing at the thing that dared to hold him down.

"Ow! Ow! Ow! Quit it! David!"

It took about a half a second to recognize Hound's voice and for the ground to stop moving. Panting and with his heart racing, David willed his body to hold completely still and stiff. Looking down at his body, David saw that he was actually strapped down by multiple safety belts. What the hell did they do to him while he was sleeping?

The belts unclicked and unraveled simultaneously and David slowly sat up, his body still shaking as to recover from his nightmare and frightening wake-up. Bluestreak and Mirage's faces appeared on either side of Hound, peering at the shaken human who was still blinking bemusedly.

"You ok, David?" Hound's voice asked from all around.

"What did ya'll do?" he asked, gulping for air.

"You were thrashing during your recharge all night," supplied Bluestreak. "When the new cycle began, you were still in recharge and still moving around a lot. We needed to get going so Sunstreaker came up with the idea to place you in Hound and tie you down."

_Sunstreaker…of course…_

Belatedly, David waved off the concerned faces of Mirage and Bluestreak. "Sorry, I'm fine. Just a nightmare."

The two mechs looked toward each other before backing up and transforming back into their alt modes. They filed in behind Hound, and the jeep resumed his driving.

"Guess I'm pretty lucky then," the human said sarcastically. "To have such a caring mech traveling with me like you, Sunstreaker."

"That's very astute of you," answered the warrior.

"What did you call me?!"

* * *

** Author's Notes Continued: **The quote from the old comedian is a quote from one Chris Titus's stand-ups. Also, for those who don't know what an HEB is, it's a grocery store chain that's rampant all over Texas. I don't know if there are any in any other states. 

**Fun Side Note: **The last two quotations at the end of the chapter are taken directly from a conversation between a friend and myself.

* * *


	12. Hit the Fan

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Transformers. All recognizable characters are the property of HasTak. All unrecognizable ones are the intellectual property of yours truly; their theft is punishable by severe voodoo-induced pain in any and all sensitive organs of the body, followed by eternal damnation.

Because, you know, stealing is wrong. (Which is funny because I totally ganked this disclaimer from Vaeru, with her permission of course.)**  
**

* * *

**Rated:** T. For mild cursing, violence, and other adult themes that will probably ensue. 

**Author Notes:** I know many people have been looking forward to this next chapter. Hopefully I have not disappointed you.

* * *

**Contra Mundum **

**Chapter Twelve**

* * *

_"Well, something sure the hell ain't right_._"_

**Capt. Malcolm Reynolds**_**, Serenity**_

* * *

It was another bright and insufferable hot day, as per usual for the way summers go in Texas. The further the human and his new travel buddies drifted south, the more humid it became. David had long since gotten used to the intense heat, but the humidity was another story. David found himself much more comfortable in Hound than he had been in Trailbreaker, for the simple fact that Hound didn't really have a roof or walls. The outside air was able to blow inside the jeep and wash away the tension and stench of energon. 

In the old days, the trip from Dallas to Houston would have taken somewhere between three to four hours, but without the use of a major road and with the overgrown plants clinging to every surface, the journey extended far beyond just a few hours. The worst trouble occurred when they convoy had to cross a major river, like the Guadalupe and the Colorado rivers. With all of the recent summer rains, even the smallest creeks had swelled over their banks. It forced the Autobots, aside from Jetfire, to cross the rivers in their robot modes, which meant David had to be carried, but he refused suffering the indignity of being held aloft like a small injured animal, choosing instead to hitch a ride on Mirage's shoulder.

He was grateful for the blue mech's sense of balance, for when they attempted to cross the Colorado River, Hound had forgotten to warn those who followed behind him about the surprising depth and swiftness of the river. When Trailbreaker tried to follow the scout, he was totally unprepared and was knocked backwards into the fast moving brown water. The sight was so phenomenal and daunting, Bluestreak refused to even set foot in the water for a while.

David observed the spectacle thoughtfully, remarking on how these mechs interacted with each other. Aside from Sunstreaker, it was strikingly different from they way he had always seen Decepticons interact with each other. After Trailbreaker slipped beneath the surface of the river, Hound had sidestepped back into the water and with a chuckle lent a hand out to the black mech. Then they both offered their help to the gunner to get him across. It was lighthearted and altruistic, and David really could find no reason why a Decepticon would willingly act that way since it seemed they could hardly stand each other. It was strangely similar to normal human behavior, so much so that David began to feel that familiar sense of something wrong in the back of his brain.

Mirage set him back down on the ground, and he refrained from voicing his doubts, only continued to watch and smothered a snigger as Sunstreaker waded across after Bluestreak, grumbling and muttering curses at both the river and the planet in general as he crossed.

"A little water never hurt anyone," the man said cheerily to the warrior.

Sunstreaker waited until he was at the river's edge to answer him. "Really, is that so?" he asked in mock surprise while cocking his finned head to the side. Then he swung his arms far back, and by the time David realized what he was doing, it was already too late. The Lamborghini swooped forward and pushed a tidal wave of cold muddy water over the banks, knocking the thin human over like a twig and washing him up against a tree.

Righting himself as well as hacking up gallons of water, David scowled at the yellow mech until he finally regained his composure.

"Bastard," he spat as he shook water out of his ears and clothes, looking for all the world like a drowned rat. Bluestreak was already crowding him, stuttering apologies and checking to see if the sodden human was all in one piece.

"A little water never hurt anyone," echoed Sunstreaker, flashing a smug grin. David was about to respond with one of his most favorite hand gestures when the crackling of an external comm interrupted him.

"Sunstreaker," admonished Jetfire's voice and David could have sworn the mech in question rolled his bright blue optics. "We've already discussed how much we do not want to find another guide. Please do not ruin this one," he ordered flatly, though David thought he heard a hint of a stifled chuckle.

Pushing Bluestreak away, the still soaked man jumped back into the already transformed Hound and threw his belongings in the back. He found himself grateful once again for the scout's choice for an alt mode, the openness allowed the warm wind to blow in as they picked up pace again, and David was dry again in less than half an hour. He was even a little cleaner, something he was grateful for though of course he would never admit it. With all the exciting activity that had occurred over the last few days, he had not exactly had neither the time nor the access to a shower.

The Autobots and their human guide continued on their way, drifting closer and closer to the coast. They passed several small towns, all abandoned and crumbling away to nothing. At one point they had to scurry under the cover of a small cove of trees as a group of search drones passed nearby. It was a close call; Trailbreaker was unable to pass through the trees smoothly in his alt mode and finally had to transform and jump in at the last second. Luckily the drones passed by without incident, and they were still far enough away that David did not need to flick on his scrambler.

They waited about a quarter of an hour before receiving an all-clear signal from Jetfire and setting out again. David gradually realized that the mechs were communicating with each other less and less through internal channels and speaking more openly with each other. He rarely partook in any of their conversations, choosing instead to listen carefully. He never really answered any questions directed at him, which usually came from either Bluestreak or Hound and even Jetfire on some occasions. The only time he really responded was if there was a question involving where they were headed, and even then he kept his answers short.

For the most part, the mechs talked about the war they had been fighting for longer than any of them seemed to remember. They talked about fellow soldiers, officers, and tight scrapes each of them had been in. He listened to them speak of their leader, each with a sense of awe in their voices, and David wondered if this Optimus Prime was really anything like they made him out to be.

When the air became so thick with humidity it was almost too hard to breathe and the ground below began to turn into soft mush, David figured they were pretty close to their destination. The mechs were no longer able to travel in their vehicle modes through the expansive marsh and would have to travel the rest of the way by foot. Jetfire flew higher into the atmosphere to avoid any detection from drones and constantly fed information to the Autobots below.

David figured that this year's hurricane season had to have been pretty impressive simply due to the fact that deep marsh-like puddles and ponds littered the flat landscape. The normally stable ground was virtually quicksand now, and even though it was difficult for David to move, it was even more difficult for the mechs following him. He was very light compared to their big and heavy bodies, and they sank deep into the mud with every step.

Clouds of insects swarmed all over the place. David wasn't sure if the mechs were having as much as an issue with the mosquitoes as he was, but he was beginning to entertain the idea of aborting the plan just to get away from then. He was constantly slapping at his face and bare arms, and even sometimes at his legs. The little bastards were determined to get at him, even through the thick cloth of his clothes. Behind him, the silence was broken by a loud slushing noise, followed by a long tirade of static-filled curses.

"_Frag_ it to the Pit! This is disgusting, why are we doing this again? Someone please remind me. Remind me why we are on this Primus forsaken backwater planet, trudging through this…stinking _sludge_ when there's a nice clean road _right over there!_" Sunstreaker spat and he tried unsuccessfully to wipe off the muck covering most of his legs and pointing in the direction of an oddly well-kept road about a half a mile away.

David looked at the road and back at the still ranting warrior. "That's used by the drones and we don't want to be seen just yet. Houston is a major manufacturing center for them and all sorts of them would be on us in minutes," he said slapping away yet another parasitic insect.

"And we're trying to land a surprise assault on the Stunticons," interjected Jetfire's disembodied voice.

"We don't even know if any of them are there!" Sunstreaker hissed, static warping the edges of his voice.

"One of them will be, there always is. Can't leave such a big and important resource unguarded," David continued, starting to become annoyed with the yellow Lamborghini whose personality was starting to border on prissy in his mind.

"And if we get rid of one of them, then they can't form Menasor and we won't have to fight him. And as much as we all know you hate this planet Sunstreaker, you can't possibly want to deal with Menasor more than you want to get off this planet," reasoned Bluestreak, and David found himself rather surprised that the gunner made the winning point of the conversation.

Reluctantly, Sunstreaker shut his mouth and resigned himself to trudge along with everyone else while keeping his grumbling to a minimum. An hour later, they were in sight of the tall and wide-spread buildings of downtown, and movement was at a crawl. They waited through long and silent intervals for the signal from Jetfire to move. Whenever his signal came, they had to haul ass from one point to another using anything for cover, even sparse clumps of trees. Hound stepped back to let Mirage lead the way, who would activate his cloaking device and make his way first when it came to crossing out in the open marshes.

David was not surprised to see all the small buildings that once held businesses and homes were completely gone. There were no traces that anything ever stood on the ground at any point in time. They had been swept away by the drones, which saw them only as obstacles and clutter. Vegetation grew in their place, and it appeared the drones had simply given up trying to clear plants away. The big buildings, however, were still standing and in remarkably good shape. It was almost as if people still went in and out of them, going about their busy normal lives. But David knew that it was common for the drones to remodel the insides of the big buildings for their own uses, or convert them into some sort of refining facility.

Speaking of the drones, David kept his head craned back towards the sky searching for the flying ones. There didn't seem to be any in the city at this time, no doubt they were down at the coast or far out into the Gulf utilizing whatever energy they could from the growing seasonal storms. It was going to make this all the easier for David. There were plenty of ground drones, but most appeared to be unarmed. In the end, it really didn't matter whether they were armed or not, since it would be hard for them to target or sense David once he turned on his scrambler.

They were closing in on the city now, and Mirage in front motioned for everyone behind him to stop. They took cover under yet another cove of thin trees, and David figured they must have been jamming their signals to the drones somehow, much like his own scrambler, because there was simply no way a drone could pass by and not pick them up on their scanners as they were. If there were any humans in the area, they would have had a nice long laugh at the sight of five big, brightly colored robots trying to hide behind trees that were not much thicker than David.

"Jetfire says he's picking up the signals of both Wildrider and Motormaster inside the city," Mirage reported, and David's heart skipped a beat. Wildrider _and_ Motormaster? "We're going to split up into two groups and close in on both of them from two sides. Jetfire will provide air support. With any luck, we can take them both out and the other three will go down with hardly a fight."

David had never been so glad to not go through with a plan in his whole life. He had never run into Wildrider yet and certainly didn't plan on it, not after the horror stories he had heard from the few survivors to get away from the psychotic demon of a Decepticon. And Motormaster…God, anyone but him. The human's legs started buckling at the mere thought of having to deal with that _thing_ ever again.

"David."

Mirage's voice jarred the man out of his thoughts, causing him to flinch more than he would have liked. "Where are the other humans?"

"I-in the city, under the big buildings," he said, trying to still the shiver in his voice. "You guys won't be able to see the entrance. If you can just buy me some time, I can slip in and lead them out. I can probably rally you some backup, too."

"Good," said the blue racecar, and he paused for a moment, no doubt receiving more information from the jet flying high in the atmosphere above them. David wondered why he was only giving orders to Mirage, but then figured sending a signal to all five of them would have required a stronger frequency and that might warrant some unwanted attention.

"Lucky for us, Motormaster and Wildrider seem to be in the same place. Hound, Bluestreak, and Jetfire will strike Motormaster. Sunstreaker, Trailbreaker, and I will take on Wildrider," Mirage continued, then threw in as an afterthought, "Sunstreaker, now would be a good time to let out all that frustration you've been building ever since we've landed." The yellow warrior glared and crossed his arms at the racecar, who seemed rather indifferent to it. David tried not to laugh, but it was hard not to when one robot accuses another of having PMS.

"We can't use our communicators; as soon as we're within the city limits, it'll send up a red flag. So, unless someone is deactivating, try and keep talking to a minimum," Mirage said as he flicked out a handgun from straight out of the air. David blinked; that was definitely new to him. The blue and white mech looked down at the human, "Whatever you're going to do, now's the time."

A grin spread across David's face, and he gave an enthusiastic nod.

_It's show time._

The human whirled away from the Autobots and without a moment of hesitation sped off towards the skyscrapers, zipping around wide puddles and disappearing into the city. The mechs watched him go, slightly dazed at the little organic's enthusiasm and sheer speed.

"For someone so small, the little guy's got no fear," remarked Hound.

Behind the scout, Sunstreaker cycled air through his vents in a human-like sigh. "At least he didn't run out screaming 'Jet Judo'."

* * *

As soon as David made it passed the first large skyscraper without being seen, he flicked on his scrambler; something he'd been itching to do ever since he left Dallas. He disappeared into a parking garage that had thankfully been left alone by the drones aside from being used as some sort of storage space. Tall steel crates lined the walls, pushing against the low ceiling and crowding the structure. It was a great place to remain hidden for now, with plenty of nooks and crannies for David to hide in. The crates would be an added plus and hopefully distort and heat signals his body gave off. 

The plan was simple: all he had to do was wait about half an hour to an hour before he could slip out of the parking garage and make his way back across the marshes. The mechs provided him a valuable service, having shown him a safe way across, and then he'd be on his way to the mountains in no time. He had just provided a heroic act of service on behalf of the entire human race by leading the "Autobots" away from the settlements. With all the new information he'd gathered, he would be welcomed as a hero in Oasis and the cities beyond.

And yet, that nagging feeling from before still had not gone away. Something, no, everything felt a little…off. The feeling had been present in the man's mind since he had left Dallas, but he'd ignored it. He told himself it was just the effect from traveling with an enemy and that as soon as he gave them the run-around in Houston, it would go away. But instead of dissipating, the feeling had only gained strength, to the point where David could no longer ignore it, no longer justify it. It was so strong the human could not even keep still, his legs refusing to keep from jittering of their own accord. Something was really, really wrong here.

With an aggravated sigh, David squirmed out of his hiding place from between several stacks of crates and peeked over the edge of the parking structure to the street several stories below. Hound and Bluestreak were slowly passing below him, keeping close to the edge of the buildings and darting around corners. David frowned; why were they still in formation? Shouldn't they have regrouped after David had disappeared so they could ambush him from where ever he was supposed to emerge with his human cavalry?

From between the buildings and two streets over, David caught a glimpse of bright yellow. Sunstreaker, Trailbreaker, and Mirage were paralleling the gunner and the scout. All were staring straight ahead, guns locked in front of them. Shouldn't they be training their guns to the ground for when some hapless human poked his little head out of a manhole?

This did not bode well.

David began to pace along the edge of the garage, his anxiety building more and more. Okay. What if maybe, just maybe, the Autobots were telling the truth? Maybe they really had come to help, that was a possibility right? Wait, who cared? It was not his responsibility anymore. What were the chances they were telling the truth anyways? After all, humans had been tricked again and again over the years, and it wouldn't be surprising if the Decepticons were going to further and further lengths to get rid of them, and David was sure as hell not going to be responsible for even more deaths.

But then again, Bluestreak had always seemed genuinely concerned over David's well-being, as had the other Autobots (aside from maybe Sunstreaker). Oh God, what if David was wrong? What if he had led the only chance of a rescue for humanity straight to its death? He could have very well damned his entire species! David was starting to go into a full-out panic now, his breaths coming out short and quick and his palms becoming disgustingly sweaty.

_What should I do? What should I do!?_ the human chanted mentally to himself over and over again like a mantra, his pacing increasing in speed and fervor.

_Damn it! Okay, okay. Calm down. There's still time to assess the situation. All I need is a little more information. I'll follow them and see what happens when they meet up with the Stunticons. _Yea, that was a good plan. Except if he was wrong, how was he going to help them? One human could not possible provide enough support against Wildrider or Motormaster, let alone both.

He turned his attention to the steel crates. Ever a resourceful thinker, David whipped out his magnesium blade and carefully sliced a small hole into the side of the nearest crate. The sight that greeted him almost brought the man to tears.

_This should help._

* * *

Pacing each other was a much easier said than done, especially without the luxury of communication. Both parties of Autobots had to constantly peer around buildings to stay in sight of one another, while at the same time avoid the small and scurrying drones that went about their business tirelessly. What was worse was that neither party could tell how close or far they were from the two Stunticons, which forced their movement to almost a standstill. 

Step, look, pause, repeat. Over and over again until even Hound felt like he was ready to blow a gasket. If they could just talk to Jetfire, they'd know what lurked around every corner and how much further they had to go until they found both Wildrider and Motormaster. How they were going to get a message out to David was still a mystery, and the dark possibility stalked in the back of each of their processors that they might have to abandon their only contact.

Hound came to a stop so suddenly Bluestreak bumped into him from behind.

"Hound?" the gunner whispered, only to be silenced by a quick chop through the air from the scout. Across the way, Hound could see Trailbreaker waving his arms and pointing through a cluster of buildings blocking their way. Both mechs got down low to the ground and crawled forward around another tall skyscraper and over what appeared to have once been electric powered rail system.

Hound carefully peeked his green head over the edge of a small structure to glimpse at what Trailbreaker had been frantically gesturing to. Standing in the middle of a square were Wildrider and Motormaster. The former was standing at attention while the latter was issuing some sort of order than the scout could not pick up on his audios.

It was a strange sight; though the officer was speaking to a mech that was practically his brother, Motormaster seemed just a little unnerved by Wildrider. It was not hard to understand why; they had all heard the horrific tales of his raging insanity, and Sunstreaker had even squared off with him in battle alongside his twin brother. Even when they had outnumbered the Stunticon, the clash had been a close call with both brothers receiving extensive amounts of damages.

"Hound," came Bluestreak's voice again, barely audible and quivering.

"What, Blue?" asked Hound in an equally soft voice.

"What's the signal we're waiting for?"

"I dunno, Blue."

There was a brief moment of tense silence. "What about David?" the younger mech asked nervously.

"…I dunno," was all Hound could give the gunner. The whole operation was rickety, even from the get-go. The Autobots were basically going in completely blind and divided against an enemy widely known for its fierceness and refusal to die. But it was the best and only plan they had, and they had to make the best of it.

Hound and Bluestreak sat in a few more moments of suffocating silence, and the scout figured that Mirage and the others were just as unsure and as tense as the two of them. Then at the same time, both Motormaster and Wildrider snapped their heads upwards. Motormaster yelled something, and Wildrider knelt to the ground, taking aim at the sky.

Jetfire swooped down, flying towards the ground in an arc, and as he passed the two Stunticons, he let loose a heavy barrage of bullets. Hound realized what their makeshift leader was doing in an instant; as the jet flew over the two Decepticons, they turned their backs to both parties of Autobots hiding among the buildings. In an act that was so perfectly timed it was almost choreographed, Hound, Sunstreaker, and Trailbreaker all leapt forward into the square and released heavy rounds of fire right into the backs of the two Stunticons.

Motormaster and Wildrider were both clearly taken by surprise but quickly regained composure and turned to fire back at the Autobots. Motormaster constantly bellowed threats not just to the Autobots but to Wildrider as well, who was bristling with such raw fury he looked as if his armor would start ripping apart at the seams.

The Autobots were forced to fall back behind the buildings, but they stayed true to their targets. Jetfire flew overhead and herded the Stunticon leader away from Wildrider. At the same time, Bluestreak and Hound focused their fire onto Motormaster while Mirage, Sunstreaker, and Trailbreaker focused theirs on Wildrider. Trailbreaker braced the front end of their assault, forming his force fields and shielding the blue and yellow mechs from most of Wildrider's shots.

With every shot, Sunstreaker cursed again and again. He shouldn't be here, not on this stinking mud ball fighting a slagging proxy war. He should be on the front lines like a real warrior, fighting alongside his twin brother. To the Inferno with these skidplates, they started this war in the first place and if it weren't for them, he'd still be happily living his life on Cybertron.

"Sunstreaker, I know you're not exactly happy about all this, but now's really not the time to whine. So if you could please shut the slag up. You're breaking my concentration," grunted Trailbreaker as he deflected another heavy round from Wildrider. Sunstreaker ground his dental plates together and continued to fire back at the Stunticon.

* * *

By the time David made it to the battlefront, his worst fears had been realized. All the Autobots were facing off against the two Stunticons; they really had been telling the truth. They weren't exactly doing poorly, but they weren't winning either despite the fact that they outnumbered the Decepticons. Jetfire was doing a good job of confusing the two Stunticons, but that wouldn't keep up for long. The dark mechs had taken cover behind a low concrete wall, though Wildrider looked like he was more for fighting out in the open idea. 

_Oh, way to go, David, you really messed up this time!_ the human mentally screamed at himself as he stumbled across the street towards Bluestreak and Hound. He was surprised to see that the drones had yet to overwhelm the Autobots from behind, but he figured Motormaster must have called them off. Even humans knew the depths of Motormaster's pride and that he would rather finish an enemy off himself rather than have a lowly drone do it.

The steel crates David had found contained tons of metal and electrical scrap the use of which was unknown to him, but he was able to rip some very valuable parts from them. He still might be able to fix this. The man sprinted towards the barricade Bluestreak and Hound had made out of a small office building, skidded to a halt a little too late, and ended up slamming right into the back of Bluestreak's leg. To add insult to injury, his metal shield and bags smashed into him after he fell backwards onto the street. The gunner broke his attention from the fight and looked back where something had struck him.

"David!"

"Ugh…hey. I got a present for ya, Bluestreak. How good's your aim?" David asked as he sat himself upright and began rifling through his bag. He extracted a couple of wires, magnets, batteries, and looped them altogether in a giant tangled mess.

"Pretty good. What are you doing? Where are all the other humans? Did they get out ok?" Bluestreak asked, turning every now and then to fire back at Motormaster.

"I'll explain later. Lemme see your gun," requested the human. The gunner obliged and lowered his rifle to David's level. The man jumped and looped the jumble all across the front of Bluestreak's rifle. Magnets clung to sides of the weapon, and blue electricity arched across the wires.

"What is that?" the gray mech asked with his optics growing wide, but the human just smiled up at him.

"Wanna see something really cool? Wait for my signal and fire that into Motormaster's face!" he yelled over the noise of gunfire. Without any further explanation, David zipped away from the puzzled gunner and dashed across the open area between barricades. He ran with his body as close to the ground as possible, and with the Stunticons being distracted, it didn't seem like they had noticed him just yet. Again he came sliding to a stop; narrowly avoiding a stray shot, and greeted a very stunned Mirage.

"What are you doing?" he asked, unable to keep the shock out of his vocalizer. He couldn't believe he had just seen the human dash out into basically No Man's Land and make it all the way in one piece. What's more, he was smiling!

"I got something that's gonna help," said David, having to raise his voice to be heard. Once again he pulled forth a tangled knot of wires, magnets, and batteries and looped it around the barrel of Mirage's gun. "Careful, don't let this touch you," he warned.

"What is that?" Mirage asked, echoing Bluestreak.

"Something really mean," David answered cryptically. He dug further into his bags and withdrew several small dark spheres. His grin grew ever wider as he took off his bags and tightened the straps on his shield. "Alright big guy, I want you to shoot that at Wildrider when I give the signa—" The human was interrupted by a loud explosion and all turned their heads to the sky to see Jetfire plummet somewhere into the buildings behind the Stunticons with his engines smoking. David watched it all in horror; if Jetfire died it would be all his fault.

He shook the shock out of his head, and took advantage of the distraction. "Shoot! Shoot!" the human cried.

Mirage and Bluestreak fired simultaneously, and twisted knots of wires struck Motormaster across the face and on Wildrider's shoulder. Magnets held the mess in place and drew an electric charge from both mechs' bodies, then released it in a crippling and agonizing shock that spread throughout their entire frames. Both screeched and froze up as the electrical charge overrode their systems.

David faltered only a moment, staring at the display as one views a train wreck. The Autobots quickly took advantage of the situation and fired heavily on the two Stunticons, who were now shrieking so loudly their voices were dissipating into static garble. Motormaster was the first to regain enough control over himself to rip the cruel device from his face and throwing it back over the barricade. Trailbreaker and Sunstreaker dove out of the way of the flying device, narrowly avoiding the thing.

"Filthy rodent!" Motormaster screamed, clearly yelling at David. The Stunticon raised his rifle back up and began aiming right at where David was poking his head up. The human dove back under the safety of the wall much like a gopher as the concrete crumbled all around him. The wall started to come down and a giant slab of concrete forced David from his hiding spot and forcing him to leap away from the barricade and out into the open.

He landed on his stomach, scraping his elbows and knees terribly. But that was little compared to what Motormaster was taking aim for, and there was no way David would be able to get up and away in time. David screwed his eyes shut bracing himself for the worst. He thought he heard one of the Autobots cry out his name, but it was drowned out by a loud clang of metal crashing against metal. The ground beneath him shuttered and David's head sprang back up.

He stared with wide eyes as Jetfire rolled on the ground with Motormaster, both savagely punching and overall beating the crap out of each other. Jetfire had snuck up from behind and launched himself into the black Decepticon literally in the nick of time.

"David!" Hound yelled, bringing the man back to the land of awareness. He was up in an instant and scrambled back behind the other barricade with the scout and the gunner. He pushed his back against the wall and slid to the ground breathless. The two mechs looked just as stunned as he felt.

"Close one, eh?" Hound asked jovially over the noise, but David couldn't answer him. He was still sucking in air frantically into his lungs, trying to bring himself out of his state of shock.

Sometime after David disappeared behind the safety of the barricade, Wildrider managed to do a repeat of Motormaster and rip the magnets and wires off himself. The result was, although David didn't see it, too much for Jetfire. The jet somehow managed to untangle himself from the Stunticon leader and jump behind the barricade David and the other two Autobots were currently taking cover behind. The scientist was banged and scuffed to hell, but he didn't look too bad all things considered.

Once again they resumed their exchanged fire, but this time they didn't have the luxury of Jetfire swooping overhead and distracting the Stunticons every so often. David handed what goodies he could to Hound and Bluestreak (which consisted of several EMP grenades as well another kind of grenade humans have come to affectionately nickname "freeze bombs"). But with all their fire power and their numbers, the two Stunticons just would _not go down_.

It was unlike anything David had ever seen, and now he knew why wiping out most of the human race was no trouble for these guys. Both appeared to have had sustained a considerable amount of damage. Specifically Motormaster after his brawl with Jetfire, but neither refused to go down. Sheer determination was keeping Motormaster standing and as for Wildrider…well, David really wasn't sure what was keeping that mech going, but it terrified him.

His faceplates were twisted and folding in on each other, almost giving the impression that he smiling... a very scary, very wide, very jagged smile. His red optics glowed fiercely almost as if they were on fire, shining brighter than his superior's. Waves of heat emanated off his dark armor, distorting the air around him and making appear to be a demon stepping straight out of a portal to Hell. To top it all off, he would sporadically roar so loud David was forced to cover his ears. It was an intimidating sight and if David were an Autobot, he couldn't be sure whether he'd stick around to face such a monster.

But as intimidating as Wildrider's animalistic rage was, it was not nearly as intimidating as how enraged Sunstreaker was becoming. David was the first to notice, catching a glimpse at the warrior's face. It was not twisted like Wildrider's was; in fact, it was quite the opposite. It was oddly stiff and almost placid, but it was the fact that there was no distortion that alarmed the human the most.

He had seen that look before, on humans right before they snapped. All the building frustration, stress, and hardships were sometimes too much for someone to take. They were always overcome by silence, before the slightest pressure became a trigger, and the refugee would explode into a cloud of blind berserker fury.

And Sunstreaker had stopped cursing.

David stared, unsure of what he should do to prepare for the explosion. After all, he had never seen the warrior truly angry. Sunstreaker looked like he was ready to pop at any moment. Mirage noticed too and pointed it out to Trailbreaker, both quickly scooted away, and David began to grow worried.

"Jetfire," crackled Mirage's voice over the jet's damaged communicator. "Can you still fly?"

The jet paused from his attack. "…Not exactly. I could probably push myself into the air but I would not be able to stay up for long."

"Would you be able to make it out of the city?"

"Why?" the red and white jet asked suspiciously, turning his head towards Mirage who was gesturing towards a silently fuming Sunstreaker. "…Oh, goodness," he said flatly, and David grew more worried.

"Hound, Blue, get ready to bail," instructed Jetfire to the two mechs at his side. The two didn't break their focus from their opponents but still nodded in acknowledgement.

"What about the other humans?" asked Bluestreak over the gunfire.

"Forget about it, I'll explain later!" shouted David as he backed away from the wall, preparing to leap into the first to transform.

Behind the other barricade, Sunstreaker's rage continued to build; he didn't want to be here, he had never even wanted to go on this mission. But Prowl (the slagger) had ordered him— no, _forced_ him to go. It was an insult to him, all of this.

Now he was here in some aft-fragged corner of the universe, hiding behind fake rock with mud caking up between his joints and being fired upon by only two Stunticons. The Lamborghini had wanted to kill something ever since setting foot on this Pit-spawned excuse for a planet and now that he was given permission to do so, it wouldn't _die. _Worst of all he was taking orders from an ex-Decepticon scientist _and_ an organic rodent, and why was what he was shooting still _not dying?!_

Wildrider landed a lucky shot, striking Sunstreaker on his right shoulder. And that was it; suddenly all of Sunstreaker's computer programs and scanners went haywire, and he no longer saw anything in front of him. He reared back, letting out a glass shattering electronic and static-filled battle roar before throwing his gun aside and lunging over the barricade. The Lamborghini barreled across the distance between the Stunticon and himself within fractions of a second and tore right into the surprised Decepticon. Even Motormaster stopped and stared with his mouth open at the sight of the bright yellow Autobot ripping apart his most feared warrior.

Motormaster abandoned his post against the other Autobots to try and pry Sunstreaker off of Wildrider, screaming commands into his communicator at the same time. No doubt he was calling the other Stunticons as well as the drones. The Autobots didn't wait. As soon as the Stunticons' leader had his back to them, they all transformed and peeled out of the square. David dove into Bluestreak, leaving his bags and barely able to pull in his shield as the gunner took off after his fellow mechs. Jetfire leapt into the sky, transformed in midair, and somehow forced his compromised engines to give him enough of a push to blast away.

The Autobots sped back the way they came only to break off down side streets when a huge armada of drones blocked their path. Bluestreak veered sharply to the right, slamming the human inside into the left side of his interior and would have apologized for it had he not been so panicked. David soon came to the horrific realization that the gunner was too hysterical to know where he was going when Bluestreak began to drive back the way they came.

"No, no! Right, Blue, right! Turn right!" David shouted at the dashboard. He abandoned his shield in the back and hopped into the driver's seat, clinging to the spinning steering wheel for balance. The gunner didn't change course, and the human arrived at the conclusion that the grey Autobot had no idea what he was doing. Taking matters into his own hands, David slammed into the brake pedal with both feet and arching his back against the seat.

The Datsun spun out, and came to an abrupt skidded halt. David righted the steering wheel and repeated the act on the gas pedal, spinning them both around once more before heading off in the right direction. Bluestreak finally gained a grip over himself and took back control from David. Out of both sides of the car, the man could see drones pacing them and closing in.

"Faster, faster! Go faster, Blue!" David screamed, forgetting about sending the gunner into another bout of panic because damn it, _they were going to die! _The man caught a glimpse of black metal as Trailbreaker disappeared behind another building to the left.

"Turn left! Follow Trailbreaker!" David yelled, rapping on the dashboard to make sure he had Bluestreak's attention. The gunner obeyed thankfully, and they found themselves right behind the black truck. Hound and Mirage appeared behind them and Bluestreak's speakers began to crackle.

"Everyone stay close and hold on!" warned Trailbreaker's voice through the static, and David put two-and-two together that now they were giving up on outrunning the drones and planning to just ram through them.

Good thing they took that left.

David barely had any time to strap on the seatbelt before Trailbreaker's shields flickered to life and broke into the line of drones, jarring him and causing Bluestreak to run into his bumper. The extra force allowed the black Autobot to cut a clean line through the drones and Mirage and Hound easily followed through.

The drones did an about-face and at first seemed like they were prepared to follow. but they all stopped at once and quickly turned back towards the center of the city. Mototrmaster must have been calling them back, David figured. That meant that the Stunticons were too weak to move or that they needed more help with Sunstreaker. Probably the latter from what he saw.

The Autobots broke their tight line and spread out, rocketing across the marshes and forcing their wheels to tread over the soft ground. Every now and then they'd pause to shove each other out of the muck but otherwise never slowed down or looked back. David slumped against the driver's seat, bouncing up and down from the ride and trying to calm his racing heart.

"That just really happened!" David exclaimed breathlessly. Even though they were far from the city now, he was still hyperventilating. He just couldn't believe it; he had truly screwed up big time, attacked Motormaster head on, was almost crushed, nearly got them all killed, and yet they got away. All aside from Sunstreaker, whose fate was still unknown.

Bluestreak didn't answer, and neither did any of the other Autobots. They just kept running, getting as far away as possible. They came to a stop about an hour later when Jetfire simply wasn't able to keep himself in the air anymore. By then the sun had disappeared beneath the horizon and night had fallen. Pulling behind a cluster of rocks and trees, David jumped out of Bluestreak to allow him to transform and watched as the others stood up as well. As soon as Jetfire landed and shifted back into his robot mode, he fell with his back to the ground, and somewhere in his body something was making a loud whining sound.

Mirage and Hound were at his side, the racecar opening a panel in the jet's side and fiddling around with whatever lay inside. Jetfire didn't seem to be in any pain: more exhausted than anything. But then again, so did everyone else. Bluestreak looked like he was just about to offline while standing. David let himself plop down on the ground, gripping his bangs with his dirty hands.

"I'm so sorry. God, I'm so sorry…" the human muttered as Trailbreaker eyed him bewilderedly.

"What are you sorry for?" the black truck asked genuinely confused. "You saved Blue's life, probably all of ours. If anything we should be sorry; we didn't get the other humans out," he finished sadly. David continued to pull at his hair and began to rock back and forth from his place on the ground.

"No, no. You don't understand. I didn't know you were telling the truth, I thought you were trying to trick me. There weren't any other humans. I led you there and I was going to leave you. Now Sunstreaker's dead and it's all my fault," the man confessed, wishing that he had died back in the city. He sure as hell deserved it. The Autobots glanced at each other uneasily before turning towards the jet still lying on the ground.

"Sunstreaker's not dead—" Jetfire rasped.

David's head shot up and he released his bangs. "What?"

"Yea, didn't you see him? It'da taken the full force of Menasor to stop him. That or Sideswipe," said Hound with a smile.

"He really needed to let loose anyways. He was getting to be a real pain in the aft," Trailbreaker stated, sounding a little irritated.

"I've been keeping track of his signal. He got out shortly after we did and he's on his way here," Jetfire continued with agitation in his voice from being interrupted yet again.

Almost in response to the chatter, Sunstreaker's sore voice crackled through Jetfire's still damaged communicator. "I can't believe you all just bailed on me." Hound and Mirage both suppressed a chuckle as the offended voice continued. "Is that how we treat each other in this war? Pfft, I _should_ have been a Decepticon. At least then I wouldn't have been surprised." The mechs all burst out into laughter, the kind of lighthearted laughter that occurs when someone is so exhausted they just don't care about anything anymore.

David however, stared uncomprehending at the Autobots as if they had all collectively grown a second head. They were smiling and joking with each other! Shouldn't they be angry with him? He had tricked them and almost gotten them all killed! Weren't they going to at least lecture him for his stupidity or leave him stranded out in the middle of nowhere?

He cleared his throat, regaining their attention. "Aren't you upset with me?" he asked, wincing at the crack in his voice. All around him the laughter died.

Jetfire just waved him off. "You came back, and you saved Bluestreak's life. That's all that matters," he said wearily, closing his optics. The other Autobots nodded vigorously in agreement, especially Bluestreak despite his fatigue. Mirage returned to his fiddling while Hound stood behind him offering his help every now and then. Jetfire then seemed to have powered down and gone into recharge.

David continued to sit and watch in disbelief, unable to comprehend how forgiveness had come so easily. Humans never even forgave each other for things that were less than what David had done. He had never felt so conflicted in his life; relief, shame, and gratefulness as well as a gamut of other emotions all swirled around in his head. He lay back on the ground, running his hands over his face.

Two blue lights glimmered at him from between his fingers, and the human realized that sometime during his internal battle, Bluestreak had sat down on the ground and was looking at him curiously.

"I'm sorry, Blue," David said, his words coming out muffled from between his palms.

"Don't be. Like they said; you came back, you helped us fight, and you saved my life. I'm always the first to panic in a battle but I can't help it even though I try. If you hadn't stopped me, I probably would've gone charging back into Motormaster and Wildrider. Or worse, Sunstreaker," the gunner said with a snicker, shaking his head.

David would have laughed, too, but fatigue was beginning to claim him. His body had run out of adrenaline, and the effect hit him like a brick wall. His eyes drooped as he let out a sigh and completely forgot the discomfort he once felt from being so close to a mech.

* * *

** Author's Notes Continued: **Falls down dead. 


	13. Road Trip

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Transformers. All recognizable characters are the property of HasTak. All unrecognizable ones are the intellectual property of yours truly; their theft is punishable by severe voodoo-induced pain in any and all sensitive organs of the body, followed by eternal damnation.

Because, you know, stealing is wrong. (Which is funny because I totally ganked this disclaimer from Vaeru, with her permission of course.)**  
**

* * *

**Rated:** T. For mild cursing, violence, and other adult themes that will probably ensue.

* * *

**Contra Mundum **

**Chapter Thirteen**

* * *

_"Hope is the thing with feathers  
That perches in the soul  
And sings the tune without the words  
And never stops at all."  
_

_**-Emily Dickinson**_

* * *

__The reprieve enjoyed by the Autobots did not last long. As soon as Jetfire was repaired enough to get himself into the air, the mechs hurriedly began to set out again. They were all tired, dinged, and dirty but they couldn't remain where they were. More and more drones were sweeping the area, and they could only keep jamming their signals for so long.

David had passed out, and for a pump-stopping moment the Autobots feared he had deactivated. But several nudges and pokes yielded a response, which consisted of unintelligible mumbling about not wanting to go somewhere called "school". They were unable to get anything else out of him, as he seemed to just keep slipping back into stasis. At a loss of direction, Jetfire decided it was best to just go back the way they came for now until David finally came back online.

"How can anyone live with such an inefficient body?" Sunstreaker huffed in exasperated dismay at the uncooperative human. "He goes into recharge every solar cycle!"

"Organics don't exactly have the luxury of being designed with energy conserving mechanisms in mind, Sunstreaker. They have to evolve them over time," Jetfire replied in a patient tone a teacher might use towards an overly animated student.

"Well they should evolve faster then!" the warrior griped.

Trailbreaker gingerly lifted the human up from his place in the dirt, praying for David not to wake up and find himself in the black Autobot's hands, causing him to lash out as the truck had seen before. Hound transformed and held still so Trailbreaker could once again lay David across the back seats of the Jeep, only this time the scout didn't strap him down since he wasn't flailing around like last time anyway.

As soon as the organic was secure, they were off. Jetfire was unable to thrust himself into the air without drawing any attention, so he went off to lead the drones on a wild goose chase while the other Autobots snuck away. They stayed close to one another, fearing that at any moment the full force of the Stunticons would come raining down on them, and they were in no shape to take on Menasor.

Jetfire returned to them some time later and assured them they were not being followed. By now, they were all running on low energy reserves and gradually slowing down. When they were about halfway to Dallas and the sun began to peek over the horizon in the eastern sky, David began to stir. He was dimly aware that he was moving, but something far more pressing caught his attention; he had never had to pee so _bad_ in his life.

"Stop," he muttered, righting himself groggily.

Hound didn't quite understand him through the mumbling at first. "What?" the scout asked.

"Pull over!" David ordered, raising his voice several levels and startling the jeep. Hound swerved a bit before coming to halt. Sunstreaker and Bluestreak barely had time to veer off to either side of the jeep before David popped open the door and jumped out.

"What now?" Sunstreaker demanded, but David didn't answer him. If anything, it was a good thing yellow Autobot had spoken up, otherwise the human would have just gone right there, but the irritated voice of the Lamborghini reminded David who he was with, and he pointedly began to walk towards the trees.

"What's going on?" crackled Jetfire's voice through the comm.

"I dunno, David just said to pull over and walked off," answered an unsure Hound.

"Should we follow him? You think he's ok? Maybe he got hurt back in the fight and we never noticed. He doesn't seem like the type who would mention it if he was hurt, kind of like you Sunstreaker," said Bluestreak, and the mentioned yellow mech was too tired to do anything but glare at the gunner.

"Let's just wait a while, I'm sure he's fine," reasoned Trailbreaker, and the other Autobots agreed, jumping at the chance to rest a little.

Beyond the tree line, David stumbled around the forest until he decided he was far enough away and went about his business. He sighed with glorious relief and then took the time to take in his surroundings. Judging by the surrounding rolling hills and forests of gnarled cedar trees, they must be somewhere near Austin.

To his left lay the shambled remains of an abandoned cabin, most of the roof caved in, and the structure was leaning dangerously to one side. He frowned; it was too dangerous to go poking inside to look for food. It was just as well; David hated rooting around in abandoned houses. It was always the worst when it was clear the inhabitants left in a rush and that no one had been in since, every surface always covered in thick layers of dust, almost every window broken, and happy family photos still perched on bookshelves.

Perhaps they could find a farm or an orchard nearby; after all, this part of the state was littered with them. Maybe they could even find a still-inhabited farmhouse, and David could contact someone in Oasis to let them know he was coming with help. They'd never believe who he was bringing, but he might omit that information until the right time.

He should contact Marla too, especially since he was heading her way first, and surprising that woman with six mechs would not be a smart move. The man smiled at her memory; it had been so long since he had seen her last. Was three or four years now? He wondered if she was still angry over those carrots he stole last time he saw her. Probably.

A shift inside the cabin broke the man from his thoughts as he turned to the interruption. A mangy canine stood on the leaning porch, patches of fur missing and baring its teeth viciously. It growled lowly at the intruder on its territory.

_Dog_, David's brain belatedly supplied for him. _Dogs travel in…oh no. _David zipped his pants up and practically flew back towards the Autobots just as a huge pack of dogs emerged from the cabin.

Back in the open field, the Autobots were quite surprised to see their human ally explode from the trees as if the Inferno was on his heels.

"David?" asked Mirage with a tinge of worry. The human sprinted towards the closest Autobot, which happened to be Sunstreaker. Behind him, a gaggle of…Primus only knew what filtered through the trees after him.

"Sunstreaker! Open your door!" David cried.

"Frag you, human. Are you crazy? You_stink_," the cranky warrior snapped grumpily.

"What are those?" asked Hound, referring to the four-legged things chasing after the human and closing in fast, foam dripping from their mouths and making the strangest noises he'd ever heard.

"Sunstreaker! Open your door _now_ or so help me, I'll scratch off all your paint with a rock!" David shrieked as he came within feet of the Lamborghini. Whether David's threat got through to the warrior or maybe through just sheer curiosity, Sunstreaker swung open his door just in time for the man to dive headfirst into the black leather interior. The human slammed into the opposite side of the car, causing Sunstreaker to yelp and snap his door shut.

A dog that had not been far from David was unable to change course or slow down ended up banging in the side of Sunstreaker, issuing another startled yelp from the yellow sports car that quickly morphed into an angered rumble. The others swarmed around the vehicle, barking loudly and savagely. The other Autobots unconsciously rolled back a few feet away.

"What the slag are those?!" cried Sunstreaker in mixed agitation and confusion. David flopped back in the passenger side seat, slapping a hand to his forward and panting heavily.

"Man, I hate dogs," he gasped.

"Get away from me you little cretins!" snarled Sunstreaker as he revved his engine and rocked on his suspension at the mutts. The majority of the dogs seemed to get the message and backed off. The other, more rabid ones, however, did not. The Lamborghini decided to rectify this by spinning out on the grass, his engine screaming loudly, and finally shot off in the general direction they had been traveling in, just missing two dogs by a hair.

The human inside gripped both the seat and the handles jutting out of the roof of the interior while also pushing his feet against the dashboard. He grunted as he tried to keep himself steady amidst the rocking and wild swinging of the Lamborghini. All at once the movement came to an abrupt stop, and David once again found himself shoved into the side of the vehicle.

"Out," ordered the disembodied voice tersely. The door swung open, almost causing the man to tumble out, but he gripped the seat at the last moment. He sat half hanging in the air with one leg propped up oddly and his head hanging out the side of the door.

"What?" he asked.

"Out!" came Sunstreaker's voice again. To emphasize his point, he bounced up and down on his shocks reminiscent of the same way a person hops on one foot to shake water out of their ear.

"But there're dogs out there!" David protested.

"Then run to Hound or Bluestreak, I don't care! Just get out!"

David made no move to do as the warrior ordered, and he felt the leather seats under him increase in temperature at an alarming rate. Instead, the human righted himself and slid further into the seats defiantly to make himself more comfortable.

"I dunno, bud. I've never been in a spiffy car like this before. I kinda like it," he said with an evil smirk. It didn't matter if Sunstreaker could see it or not, because he was sure the Lamborghini could hear it in his voice. Somewhere behind them, David heard Trailbreaker snort and echo, "Spiffy…"

"Fine. Actually, you know what? It's better than fine; make yourself at home. Because the minute you step out, I'm going to smear your filthy aft all over the ground," Sunstreaker seethed, his entire frame vibrating threateningly. The human only tilted his fuzzy head in response, furrowing his brow at the dashboard.

"Well ain't you just a bucket of sunshine," he remarked, and the Autobot immediately ceased all movement. The sound of desperately and unsuccessfully smothered laughter began to waft from behind them. David turned awkwardly in his seat to try and look at the source of the snickering.

"What?" he asked in confusion.

"I will kill you all," was all the Lamborghini said.

* * *

Jumping down the last rung of the rusted ladder, David narrowly caught himself before slipping on the algae coating the floor of the sewer. He grunted at it; why had it become such a ritual for him to always slip on the stupid algae every time he descended into the sewers of his Safe Point? One would think that after years of bumping elbows, hitting funny bones, and scraping knees on the stuff would have taught the man to be more careful.

He hadn't needed to bolt as soon as he stepped out of Sunstreaker; the warrior as well as the other Autobots was far too exhausted to continue traveling, let alone chase a human. David was more than okay with that, although he wasn't sure if that would persist once Sunstreaker got his energy back.

Since David had slept during most of the trip back up to Dallas, he was not in immediate danger of passing out like the mechs were. He decided that he would take his time and give them a real chance to rest. God knew they deserved it, and they were far enough away that they wouldn't need to worry about drones for now. David stood in the dark tunnel for a moment, a crooked and unseen grin across his face.

He just couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe that after fifteen years of fear, death, and Hell…help had finally come to Earth. People wouldn't understand at first; they would think it was just another trap. It would be hard to explain, and trust would come with difficulty, just as it had for him. But after all of that, hope would be restored in humanity.

When his family disappeared, David's hope had faded away from him. He thought he would never regain it, never even imagined the possibility of feeling it again. The same could probably be said for many people, for the man had never met another person who had every family member accounted for. And now here he stood with hope bubbling up and threatening to overwhelm him. He was almost giddy with it.

This was a real second chance, a possibility to make everything go back to what it once was, maybe even better. It was a long shot but damn it, it was something. And that was better than just sitting around and waiting to die like humans had done for over a decade now.

Trailing his fingers across the cold and slimey walls, David once again stepped into the flickering harsh light of the commons area. He had not been gone long: only two days at the most. The generator still kicked up sparks, water still leaked from the walls and filtered to the reservoir, the air was still stagnant…but it was all different now.

The man couldn't understand why. It wasn't like this was the first time the place had been empty. Hell, he had gone an entire two-year period without any refugees or runners stopping in. But it didn't feel like this, so…purposeless. And it was strange, because the Safe Point still held a lot of purpose, if not history. It was a testament to man's refusal to lie down and die in the face of overwhelming adversity, and it could still be used by any who needed it.

It wasn't that David was counting all his chicks before they hatched, oh no. There was still the very real possibility that the Autobots would fail, and David would go back to living the way he had, though he would probably continue on in the mountains.

And that was it, he realized: whether they won or lost, he would not return to this place. There was nothing left for him here anymore.

It was an odd feeling, for he had spent most of his adult life here. He had devoted so much time and effort into keeping the place running, repaired equipment, spent hours in front of the telegraph, and tried to help so many people. There had been months where the man had never even emerged from his hiding place, primarily during past winters. And yet after today, he would not be coming back. It was a little disheartening, but in the end David figured it was probably for the best.

He bustled about the underground Safe Point, rummaging through the nook that was his room for another bag and stuffed a change of clothes into it. They weren't much cleaner than what he wearing now, but at least with the second pair of pants, disintegration was not imminent. He then moved into the dark storage room, flashlight clamped between his teeth so he could illuminate the room and use his hands simultaneously. He crammed packaged foods like beef jerky and dehydrated fruits into his bag as well as an assortment of batteries.

He had abandoned his other two bags, which contained things like grenades and his beloved magnesium blade, in Houston. So David made sure to find a new magnesium blade and snagged plenty of grenades to take along with him. He grabbed a handful of scramblers, since he wasn't sure when the next time he would be able to charge his was.

The tall man then drifted into the control center and sat down at the telegraph like he had done so many times before. He encoded a message specifically for Marla and sent it out. Other receivers would come across his message and keep it floating around on the lines until she got a hold of it, which she was usually pretty good about. Since he had some time, David began to decode several other messages, just to get an update on what was going on in other places of the country.

Stunticon activity had dropped all across the board, though that was no surprise to David, but drone activity had picked up immensely. More attack drones were being reported as well, as opposed to the usual work drones humans had grown accustomed to seeing. One report in general disturbed David greatly; there was a rumor of humans working for Decepticons. It was not confirmed, but several senders were describing deals offered to them or people they knew by Decepticons. In exchange for their cooperation to find other human settlements, the Decepticons would spare them and their families. It was unknown whether anyone had accepted the deal or not.

After taking the time to tediously decode the reports correctly, David sat back in his little metal chair, greatly troubled. This rumor, whether it was true or not, was going to cause a lot of problems when they got to Oasis. The people would assume that he had agreed to the deal and would try to attack him and the Autobots. But most of the refugees that came through the Dallas Safe Point were sent directly to Oasis. Many of the people there would know David, so perhaps that would make things a little easier. He had gone to great lengths in the past to assure people's safety, and that was something not easily forgotten, or so he hoped.

David unconsciously pulled at his bangs; he would have to explain all of this to the Autobots before they arrived at Oasis. But he didn't need to right now. For now they would just head to Marla's and decide what to do there. And hopefully Marla's reaction to the Autobots would be nothing like David's initial reaction.

The man put everything in the back of his mind for now, gathered his belongings, and began to head back the way he came. He turned off the monitors, the lights, and anything else that was running on electricity. Before turning off the main generator (probably for the last time ever), he turned to the boxes of supplies sitting against the wall. It seemed like such a waste to just leave them here. An idea struck him, and David dug around the commons area for a moment until he located a marker.

He carefully wrote out the contents of each crate in big black letters across the sides. He probably misspelled every one of them, but at least this way someone who was in need of help and stumbled across the Safe Point would be able to get what they needed. Satisfied, David grabbed his things and climbed back up the ladder.

He squinted his eyes against the obnoxiously bright daylight as his head emerged from the manhole. Perhaps leaving for the mountains wouldn't be so bad after all; he wouldn't have to put up with the hellish heat of Texas summers. The Autobots were nowhere in sight. David hesitated getting out of the manhole for a moment; what if the Stunticons had caught up and they were in hiding?

Very slowly, David inched his long body out of the manhole, staying so low to the ground his chin almost brushed against the asphalt.

"Hello?" he called out apprehensively, trying hard to not draw attention but at the same time locate the mechs.

"David, over here."

The human spun around toward the source of the voice. He spotted Jetfire leaning out of the top of the underground parking garage where the shuttle used to be kept. David scuttled away from the manhole, still keeping low and dragging his new bag behind him. Jetfire was half lying on the ground of the parking lot awkwardly, trying to fit his big and bulky body into the low-ceiling area. Behind him sat the other Autobots, all in their vehicle forms. It was such a strange sight to see a jeep, a Datsun, and a truck parked next to a Lamborghini and a racecar.

"Did something happen? Did the Stunticons follow us?" David asked as he came to a sliding stop in front of the jet.

Jetfire just shook his head as he scooted back under the parking structure, white metal scraping against the concrete loudly. "No, it's just really hot outside," the leader replied wearily. David cocked his head; he had never stopped to think that mechs would be affected by something like heat as a human would be.

"You get used to it," he said, attempting to dust off his bag retreived from the street.

"You mean it's always like this?"

"Not always, but most of the time. It won't be where we're going though."

Jetfire nodded and twisted his body around gracelessly to the strange assortment of vehicles parked against the crumbling wall behind him. "We will leave soon then. They should rest a bit longer while they can," he said. The swiveled his helmed head back towards the human. "Where is it that we are going?"

"To see an old friend, and from there to the mountains," David answered, though he found it hard to keep looking directly at the jet. He constantly let his eyes wander everywhere but the mech's face. It was still too strange to be so close to a mech like this; the reprieve with Bluestreak from last night had already been forgotten.

A silence fell between the two. It probably would not have been awkward had David not made it so. While Jetfire didn't seem the least bit unsettled, even in his contorted position, the thin human in front of him fidgeted terribly. He shuffled his feet, and every now and then a hand involuntarily reached to pull at his bangs.

"Why did you come here?" The question slipped through his lips before David even realized he had spoken. However, he was more embarrassed with himself than worried over Jetfire's reaction.

The red and white jet considered him for a moment, obviously thinking over the question before answering, "We came to do what we've been doing for many orns; to stop the Decepticons."

"No, I know all that. I mean of all the places you guys could have landed, why did you land in the middle of Nowhere, Texas?"

Again Jetfire mulled over the question for a moment, thinking of how the best way to tell the human that he was simply the easiest to reach. He feared that perhaps telling him the truth would upset him somehow. This small creature had suffered for so long with many others of his kind because of a war that had entangled itself on their planet. These people had called for help of which they were in desperate need, and the Autobots had not truly answered it, not even now.

They were not here to save these humans. To save their own species was their first priority, and this planet possibly held the key to turning the tides of this war. It was easier to side with the native dominant species than it was to wrestle control away from both them and the Decepticons. That wasn't to say Jetfire didn't feel empathy towards them, but they weren't the only innocent bystanders affected by this war in the universe.

Then again, Jetfire really didn't want to re-sow the seeds of mistrust. "You're signal was the closest for us to reach, so we decided to start here," he said at length, hoping that it didn't come off as bad as it sounded.

"So that means there were more signals right? And not just in this hemisphere?" David asked eagerly as he pointed a finger towards the ground. Jetfire's optics widened as he realized what the human was getting at; he had no idea how many of his kind were left.

"Lots more, too many to possibly answer. On almost every landmass," the jet responded with great relief. The human's face lit up like Jetfire had never seen, and he spun around on the ground with his arms in the air. It almost looked like he was trying to dance.

* * *

Soon after Jetfire managed to get David to calm down, they shook the other Autobots out of their recharge cycles and set out to meet this friend of David's. It was a long trip, but it was far less tense than their previous one. For one thing, there were less and less drones as they traveled further into the interior of the land. The air also became cooler and dryer, much to Sunstreaker's avid relief. Travel was still slow due to the ever-present overgrown vegetation and wide rivers, but the Autobots were far more energized now than they had been before.

The most surprising thing of all was the complete change in the human's behavior. He took turns riding in each of them (aside from Jetfire and Sunstreaker, of course, the latter of the two still insisting the man was too dirty to be in his interior). While he was still uncomfortable being close to one of the mechs in their robot form and still very against being picked up, he was more relaxed while riding in one of them.

For the first few hours of the trip he was as silent as he had been on the trip to the coast, but he did not seem to be brooding; rather, he seemed to just be listening as the Autobots spoke of their recent brush with the Stunticons. It surprised them greatly when David suddenly interjected into one of their conversations and continued to do so until he was joking and laughing with them. He even went so far as to poke fun at Sunstreaker's finned helm. Since the human was riding in Bluestreak at the time, the gunner had to haul aft when the Lamborghini revved his engine and charged in their direction.

Aside from the little things like the fidgeting, it was almost as if David were a completely different individual from the one they had met and were attacked by in Dallas. Even though he was still clearly having issues being around them, he was trying and slowly succeeding in overcoming them, something Jetfire never would have guessed the human was capable of considering how incredibly stubborn he had been when they first met him. In the back of his processor, the jet wondered if the sole reason David was doing this were because he felt guilt for leading them deep into Decepticon territory.

Jetfire listened intently when Trailbreaker began to ask David questions about what Earth was like before the Decepticons came. The human struggled for an answer at first, explaining that he had been quite young when it happened and therefore did not remember much. He did say, however, that if the Decepticons had not done the human race in, they would have done it themselves. The response left Jetfire in great confusion, but David would not elaborate further whenever the Autobots pressed him for it.

Almost another solar cycle passed, and while the ground below all looked the same to Jetfire (flat and utterly featureless), David seemed to know exactly where they were. When more hills began to grace the landscape below, David called for them to stop and take cover in a small meadow surrounded by low hills.

Jetfire swooped down to meet them, fearing that there were drones about that he had missed, but the human did not look concerned. He was loading his things into Hound while the other Autobots stood and surveyed their surroundings.

"What's going on?" the jet questioned.

"Mama Marla's farm is just a little ways further. Ya'll can't just run out onto her farm. You think I was bad when you met me? Marla was the one who taught me my tricks," David briefed, and the mechs all exchanged nervous glances with each other. Primus, they didn't want to do that all over again.

"So, I'm going to take in Hound first and explain everything. Then we'll give you the all clear," David finished as he hoped into the driver's side of Hound. "Alright Hound, you'll need to pretend you're just a normal, lifeless jeep."

"Got'cha," replied the scout, and off they went without so much as waiting for an okay from Jetfire. When the farmhouse came into sight, Hound became puzzled. The structure was not falling in on itself nor was it completely wrapped in vegetation. It appeared to be in remarkably good shape compared to the other buildings he had seen. There was even a larger structure behind it that looked like it could hold two or three mechs standing at their full height.

"David," the jeep asked and the human looked at his dashboard, "How come that building ain't all rickety like all the others?"

"The drones don't typically go into the interior of the country. There's more energy to be reaped at the coasts and out into the oceans than here. And with the lack of roads, the Stunticons are not excited to come out here either. Marla runs this farm and sends whatever she makes to the settlements in the mountains. She's a nice lady, once you get to know her," David said as he scanned the front of the farmhouse.

"There she is!" the man exclaimed, jumping up in his seat and pointing a finger. "Mama Marla!" he cried out in a singsong voice. Sure enough, there sat another human on the veranda of the structure. Hound supposed that David must be tall for his species because the other human was shorter and broader. She took notice of them as they approached and pointed something at them. It was long and dark and…

"David," said Hound nervously, "That looks a lot like a—"

Hound didn't get to finish as a loud bang shook the air and something struck the ground next to the scout's left front wheel. David fell back into the seat, and Hound pointedly spun around to head back in the other direction. David was having none of it, however, and gripped the jeep's steering wheel to turn them both back towards the farmhouse.

"What are you doin'?! She shot at us!" Hound yelped as another shot zipped dangerously close to his fender.

"Don't worry, she's not using armor-piercing rounds," David reassured as he ducked behind the dashboard to dodge another shot, and Hound immediately began to regret volunteering to go to the farmhouse with him. The man stood up again, taking grip of Hound's roll cage with one hand and the steering wheel with the other. "Marla! Quit it!" he yelled.

"You skinny-ass sewer rat! I've been waiting' fer you to show yer face! I gotta bone to pick with you!" screamed back the woman fiercely from the porch as she fired again. "You stole from me!"

"I asked if I could take'em!" David shot back.

"An' I said no!"

"It was just a bag of stupid carrots! You're overreacting!" the man shrieked. The woman landed a lucky shot and hit Hound right on his grill. The scout stifled a yelp; they were too close to her now for him to speak. It didn't go through his armor, nor did it even cause a dent, but Primus, it stung.

"_Marla!_" Davied yelled again, this time with some amount of force in his voice. It must have gotten through to the other human because she finally lowered her weapon and allowed them to approach the house. She never took her eyes off them, not even for a moment as Hound carefully rolled up. She carried a strong sense of authority in the way she stood, even if the garments she wore looked more than a little worn out.

Hound watched silently as David hopped out, not even bothering to open the door. He opened his arms and smiled wide at the other human who had yet to move. The sight seemed rather audacious to the scout, and apparently it seemed that way to the female too, judging by the look on her face. After all, she had just shot at the man, and any normal person probably wouldn't be smiling after something like that.

"Mama Marla," David tried to say as smoothly as he could with his shit eating grin still plastered on his face. It was the same old charm he had tried to use on the woman ever since he was a teenager, and her response was still the same.

"Don't 'chu 'Mama' me," the robust woman cut in. "You better be pullin' a bag o' carrots outta that jeep or I'm sickin' the dogs on you."

"I got somethin' better n' carrots," said David mischievously, holding a finger up like he was trying cut a shady business deal. Hound took note that his accent was returning, though it was probably being spurred by the thick accent of the female human.

"Oh, yea?"

"Yea, but you have to put the gun away first."

* * *

Author's Notes: Marla will always have a special place in my heart. Not because of her bold personality, but because I have actually been shot at by a crazy-ass farmer. We weren't even on his land for Christ's sake!  



	14. Nose to the Wall

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Transformers. All recognizable characters are the property of HasTak. All unrecognizable ones are the intellectual property of yours truly; their theft is punishable by severe voodoo-induced pain in any and all sensitive organs of the body, followed by eternal damnation.

Because, you know, stealing is wrong. (Which is funny because I totally ganked this disclaimer from Vaeru, with her permission of course.)**  
**

* * *

**Rated:** T. For mild cursing, violence, and other adult themes that will probably ensue.

**Author's Notes:** Wow so, I'm surprised this got done at all. Sorry for the late update but hey, it's the end of the school semester and my teachers are trying to kill me.

* * *

**Contra Mundum **

**Chapter Fourteen**

* * *

_"I love a woman who can kick my ass."  
_

_**-Spike Spiegel**_

* * *

_He had been working tirelessly for a long while now. He had lost track of the time hours ago, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was the information he was receiving. New York was gone, as were Minneapolis and San Francisco. Almost every major city had been leveled and now the smaller ones were starting to fall. Survivors from all over were fleeing into the mountains and up into the far north, where shelters were still being set up. He wanted to help those people, but they were too far. He could help the people calling for help down in Corpus Christi though. That meant he would have to make another run down there to get them; David was not going to be happy. _

_Jeb switched off the CB radio knowing full well that everything they had said had been closely monitored. He and the other senders had spoken in code, but there was no guarantee that would make things any safer. Nothing was ever safe anymore. They needed to find another way to communicate and fast, or they were all going to end up just like New York and San Francisco. _

_The large man turned around in his chair and was surprised to see David sitting in the control room with him. Jeb had been so wrapped up in his work that he hadn't heard the boy come in. David was facing towards the commons area, showing his long and thin back to the older man. Jeb never noticed how deathly thin he was until now: just another thing to add to his long list of worries concerning the boy._

"_Hey, boy, what'sa matter? Can't sleep?" the man asked conversationally. David twisted his neck back to look at him. He looked positively miserable; dark bags under his sunken eyes and a drab expression on his boney face to match. It made him look so much older than he really was, and the weariness in his eyes was so akin to his father's that it was almost frightening. Jeb knew he had been having trouble sleeping, but he hadn't realized how bad it had gotten. Still, not sleeping was better than the nightmares that used to plague the both of them._

"_C'mon, don't look to sullen. Not many boys inherit what's essentially an army base when they turn eighteen, y'know."_

_The boy looked away from Jeb back towards the commons area, where they could hear the soft shuffling of the refugees that had just been brought in. There weren't many this time, only ten at the most, but most were young children. It was amazing how any of them had made it this far at all without being caught. Children were notorious for slowing things down and drawing attention._

_David's tired voice broke the man from his thoughts. "Jeb, I can't remember my dad's face," he said. His voice was even, which was unnatural for David. Jeb could tell he was forcing his emotions down, trying to keep himself in one piece. Looking closer, Jeb could see his lanky arms shaking. "I can't remember my mom's either. I can remember Jessie's, but my parents' are just blurs," he continued. _

_The larger man just stood for a moment at a complete loss of what to say. It hadn't been that long since they had last seen his parents, only about five years. The boy had completely blind-sided Jeb with the confession, but it was obvious that it was something that was eating him from the inside out. If Jeb continued to leave him alone, he was going to snap like so many people before him since the invasion. Slowly, the older of the two eased himself to sit on the cool floor so that he was shoulder to shoulder with the younger. _

_Jeb took a moment to think about what he wanted to say. He could callously ask David how he could possibly forget the faces of the people who loved him, or he could berate him for it. But it seemed David had done a pretty good job of doing that to himself already; any more would send him over his breaking point. _

_Coming to a decision, Jeb cleared his throat. "Your dad was tall n' thin like you. He was young, but he already had gray hairs n' wrinkles on his forehead. I always told him they were there 'cause he spent so much time worryin' for other people and their woes…" The man paused over the memory, smiling and shaking his head. "An' your mama was as pretty as an angel…_

"_David, even if you forget their faces, don't you ever forget who they were. Laurel was stern n' proud: a real lady. An' Greg cared so much for ev'ryone it damned near killed him. He once told me that his friends n' his family were all that mattered to him, n' that's all that should matter to you now. Don't you ever forget that, hear me?"_

_The boy slowly nodded his head and swallowed hard, "Yea, Jeb, I won't forget."_

* * *

Initially, Marla's reaction to seeing Hound was exactly as David had expected. She stumbled back under the porch, one hand cupped to her mouth and the other gripping David's thin arm while rasping, "David, what have you done?" It was the first time he had ever seen the woman truly surprised, maybe even a little afraid. Hound looked just as apprehensive as the farmer.

She had gone for her shotgun again then, even though she was well aware the shells wouldn't have done a thing to the mech, but damned if she wasn't going to try. Unsure of what to do, Hound had just stood there wrenching his optic-shutters shut and bracing for the sting of the shotgun shells. David intervened of course, managing to barely wrench the weapon out of the woman's strong hands, and very quickly stammered an explanation. Marla could only keep staring at the big mech over David's shoulder with wide eyes, and behind the two humans, dogs could be heard barking from behind a closed door.

"Mama, I swear he's not a Decepticon. They are not Decepticons! They're here to help! Look, he's not doin' anything!" David repeated over and over.

The blonde woman shook out of her stupor at his words. "There's _more_!?" she gasped, ignoring the mech's lack of any sort of action. The man grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her to look at him.

"They are _not_ Decepticons. Understand? I know I ain't the brightest, but I'm not stupid enough to bring them here if they were. And I know you know that," David said forcefully, his eyes intensely focused on Marla. For a moment, he could still see conditioned fear in her eyes at the sight of Hound becoming clouded with confliction. David would never betray her; he would never put her in any kind of danger, and she knew it.

Gradually, Marla calmed down as much as she could, though it may have only been because David wasn't physically allowing her to do anything else. The older woman relaxed in his grip but did not look away from Hound. David slowly let her go and moved to step behind her while keeping a hand on her shoulder. She stood and continued to glare warily at the giant green scout standing in front of her porch. David was right though; he wasn't doing anything. He looked as uncomfortable as a small child would if they were suddenly asked to recite the quadratic formula. Any normal Stunticon or Decepticon would have blown her farm to Kingdom Come by now.

Marla took a slow and experimental step forward, and the alien instantly took one step backward. It was like he was afraid of her. What did he have to be afraid of? He had taken her by surprise, and she was unarmed; she should be afraid of him! The woman took another, more confident step forward. This time the mech didn't take a step back, but he was looking nervously between her and David. Decepticons didn't act like that. _Ever_. No self-respecting Decepticon would ever look to a mere human for guidance. Then that meant…

Almost as if he had read her mind, David lowered his face to the side of Marla's and said softly in her ear, "Marla, this is Hound."

"Howdy," the mentioned mech piped with an eager smile that quickly faded once he caught sight of the death-glare coming from Marla. David made a chopping motion at his neck while mouthing the words, "not yet". Hound of course had no idea what the motion meant, but he was able to gather the gesture's meaning by the look on David's face.

Marla couldn't help but scoff, "How's a robot get a name like that?"

"He's their scout," David informed as Hound lowered himself to one knee so he could view both humans under the porch easier.

"It's an honor to meet you," he said formally, all traces of the accent he picked up from David gone. Marla's eyebrows arched high at the Jeep.

"He's got better manners n' you," she muttered, turning her head slightly to give the man behind her a smug glance.

David just rolled his eyes. "Mama, everyone's got better manners than me. Well, almost. You haven't met the rest of them yet."

Marla decided she didn't like the way he said that. "How many more are there?" she questioned, afraid to know the answer. Seeing one mech this close was almost enough to make her tired heart give out.

"Five others plus Hound here."

Marla stared at Hound for a few moments and then slowly began to shake her head. Six? Six mechs? She wasn't sure she could handle seeing that many at once so close to her. Sure Hound had proved himself true, but he was still an enemy in her mind, and it was hard to shake off. She couldn't do it; the mere thought of seeing so many threatened to overwhelm her. She pulled herself away from David and stomped back to the door of the farmhouse. As she yanked the door open, a flood of dogs rushed passed her to crowd around Hound and bark loudly at him.

"Don't you _dare_ step on any of my dogs," Marla warned darkly as she stepped through the doorway and slammed the wooden door shut behind her. She began to head for the stairs and could hear David saying something to the mech outside. Marla didn't stop to hear it, only continued her way up the staircase. Halfway up, she heard the door open behind her. She didn't turn back to look at David, whose footsteps she could hear hurriedly trying to catch up with her own. Continuing into her room, she paced back and forth anxiously until David cautiously poked his head around the corner.

"Mama?"

Marla's patience finally snapped. "I told you: don't chu 'Mama' me! All you damn kids comin' in an' outta here! 'Mama' this an' 'Mama' that! I ain't yer goddamn Mama!" she spat angrily and resisted the urge to kick the edge of her own bed. The subject was entirely irrelevant, but Marla was so flustered that her tolerance had become paper-thin. David recoiled a bit from her looking as if she had burned him with her words. The woman sighed and gripped the back of her head, trying to force herself to calm down.

"You don't trust me?" David asked after a brief moment of silence, his voice soft and full of reproach.

"You know I trust you, sweetness. But you can't expect to just waltz onta my farm with a buncha 'Cons and have me offer ya'll a cup o' tea," Marla began to explain, trying to keep her voice steady and failing as she continued to pace about the room.

"They're not 'Cons," the tall man interjected and Marla paused for the first time since she had gone back into the house. She frowned intensely at the young man, worry lines running deep across her forehead and around her eyes.

"An' you know this? You ain't heard the warnin'?"

"I heard it."

"Before or after you met them?"

David turned away from her strong glare and briefly thought about saying that he met them beforehand. But Marla knew his every tell, and if he lied it would only make things worse. "After," he muttered honestly.

The woman heaved a heavy and frustrated sigh. "You ain't no different than yer daddy," she said wearily and passing a hand over her face. David looked back to her, a small flicker of pride flaring up inside him at the very aspect that he could aspire to be anything like him.

"Marla, just meet'em. They're for real, I swear."

"What makes you so assured?"

"I tried to kill'em. Twice," the man answered with a lopsided grin and holding up two fingers. It brought a stubborn smile to Marla's face.

Life had been so hard ever since Earth was overrun. It had been hard before, when Marla farmed for a living, but now she was farming to keep people alive. Almost everything she made, the farmer send to the settlements while keeping very little for herself. She was lucky to be so far out in the middle nowhere, where the drones and the Decepticons didn't normally wander. But it didn't make the fear go away, the fear that one day they'd be on her doorstep and crush her like a bug, then the shelters would have one less supplier to keep them going.

Fear was such a funny thing. After living with it for so long, one became accustomed to it. The fear got her out of bed every morning at three a.m. and made her to break her back every day working the fields and tending the animals. Marla was not young, far from it, but she still dragged her tired body outside day in and day out.

Now there was a chance that all that could go away, and she feared it still. Feared that David could be wrong, despite his confidence, and everything would be blown to hell in the blink of an eye. She feared that David could be _right_ and it still be blown to hell.

The woman turned away from David, crossing her arms in front of her to keep her composure as she walked to the window. She almost jumped away at what she saw. The green mech was kneeling to the ground, holding a large hand out to the dogs running about his feet. It was an endearing image, but it wasn't what made her jump. Apparently, while she and David had been arguing, the others had taken the opportunity to show up. A grey mech with two shoulder cannons was kneeling with the green one, chattering excitedly.

Behind the pair stood a disinterested yellow mech who seemed to be distancing himself from the black and blue mechs next to him. Where the sixth mech was, Marla couldn't tell.

David's voice came from her right. "The one with Hound is Bluestreak," he said nodding towards the grey mech with the cannons. He pointed to the black and blue mechs. "Those are Trailbreaker and Mirage. That one is Sunstreaker, and I don't know where Jetfire is."

Marla snorted. "There's no way I'm gonna remember those names."

David fell silent, content with watching the scene on the front lawn of the farmhouse for a moment until his gaze flickered to the dogs. An idea instantly lit up in his brain. "Jetfire is like a German Shepherd," he said with a grin. The stout woman turned her head to give him a flat look.

"Hound is, uh, a bloodhound. Blue's a border collie, Mirage is a greyhound, Trailbreaker's a Great Dane, and Sunstreaker's a…" The man paused before a wicked smirk crossed his face. "... a Pomeranian."

Marla threw her head back and laughed so loud she gained both Hound and Bluestreak's attention for a moment. "You're an idiot," she said in loving annoyance. The tall man leaned on her then, first comfortingly and then pressed his weight against her. He playfully let himself grow more limp, pushing more weight until he was threatening to knock the smaller woman over.

"Git offa me!" she said finally, giving him a hard push and almost sending him straight into the wall. For how short she was, Marla was a strong woman. After David recovered from both the shove and his own inane giggling, the woman placed her hands on her hips and took a deep breath. "You wanna show me they ain't 'Cons? Then ya'll gotta do me a favor."

"Shoot."

"There hasn't been anyone through here in a long while, and I hauled a huge surplus last season and stored it. All by myself I'll have you know," she said almost as if she were trying to lecture David. "Ya'll take it with you when you leave."

David nodded without hesitation. "I promise. Now come on," he said, taking her hand. The deal may have been struck, but Marla would still need to be pushed. He guided her out of the room, down the stairs, and with a final tug, out onto the porch. Hound and Bluestreak looked up from the dogs, which by now had calmed down and stopped barking. David noticed for the first time that a small brown pig was among them.

"When did you start lettin' the pigs in the house?" he asked raising an eyebrow at the little dark chubby porker.

"That's Boomhauer. He was a runt," Marla supplied, slightly distracted by the Autobots and trying to back up again. David wouldn't let her, however, and began to drag her forward until they were out from under the porch and in Hound's shadow.

The mech stepped back a bit, letting in some room between himself and Bluestreak and cautious not to accidentally step on any of the animals under him. He looked only at David, fearing he might upset the farmer again.

David was about to open his mouth to say something when Bluestreak cut him off. "I thought dogs were bad. They're what chased you before, right? How are these different from those? Because these look pretty much the same to me aside from the markings on their fur. They do seem a lot friendlier than the ones before though."

Marla began to see why David described this one as a border collie. The man next to her looked to the gunner and answered, "Those were wild dogs. These are domesticated ones."

"So, that means they're pets right?" asked Hound, his accented drawl mysteriously having returned. At that point, Trailbreaker and Mirage had wandered over, and Marla began to feel her anxiety bubbling up again. The mechs were probably aware of it, and it was Trailbreaker who made the first move to take her mind off of them.

"What are their names?" the black Autobot asked.

"Uh-hh…th-that one's Kimmy," she said nervously pointing to a black lab mix. "Riley, Berkley, Caleb, Oscar, Jack, and that one is Boomhauer," the woman finished, nodding to the little brown piglet. "He's new." Each of the animals perked their ears at the sound of their names, aside from Boomhauer, who just snorted and continued to root around in the grass.

David placed his hands on Marla's shoulders from behind. "Marla's got a job for us," he announced merrily. His behavior towards the aliens confused her. David had always been a friendly individual, but she never imagined _anyone_ being so casual with a mech. It was like he was speaking to just another human. If these Autobots were really who they claimed to be, she wished that she could somehow act the same way towards them --in her own special way, of course.

"She works on this farm by herself," David continued, "and sends whatever she makes to the shelters in the mountains. No one's come by here in a while, and she's got some supplies she needs sent up there. She's agreed to let us rest here if we take the supplies with us when we leave."

"We'd be more than happy to," said Hound, Trailbreaker and Bluestreak nodding with him. "Jetfire can probably carry most of it."

"Where is he anyway?"

"He mentioned concerns of being followed, especially after what happened down near the coast. He is sweeping the area, just in case," informed Mirage who was still tilting his head curiously at the dogs.

"What happened at the coast?" asked Marla, raising a suspicious eyebrow at David.

"I'll tell you later," David muttered lowly, then in a clearer voice said, "Still keep everything in the barn?"

"Uh huh. Lemme get the girls and take 'em out into the pasture. I don't want them scarin' my cows into givin' sour milk," Marla said. She turned to give a courteous nod to Hound and the others and then sauntered off towards the direction of the barn. David trotted after her, motioning for the Autobots to follow and directing them to stand behind the big structure so they were out of the way. David was surprised to see Sunstreaker follow behind them and figured he was probably curious to see what a cow looked like.

The barn was just as big as he remembered it, with a tall roof and high lofts lining the inside. On one side there sat a series of stalls. Three held a single dairy cow in each, two had horses, and the last two were empty save for a few stacks of hay. On the other side sat more rolls of hay stacked on top one another, as well as a couple dozen boxes and barrels. Inspecting the walls a little closer, David saw that wear was beginning to show.

Most of the paint that once coated the wood was chipped off, and the planks riddled with holes. Looking upwards, he could see a few specks of sunlight peering in through holes. How long had it been since anyone had been here to help Marla? He remembered when he was young, she often sent him and any other young boys that were present out to do maintenance and repairs on any of the equipment or buildings. It was how she was able to keep the farm functioning as a supplier. But if the barn was showing so much damage, how long had she been running this farm by herself?

As David continued to ponder, he and Marla silently took each cow and horse out of their respective stalls and led them out to the fenced pasture next to the barn. After bringing out the first cow, the man turned to see Sunstreaker's finned head peeking over the roof of the barn, looking quite flabbergasted at the sight of the bovine.

After leading the last animal into the field, Marla turned to the tall man. "You hungry?" she asked, whipping fine beads of sweat off her brow. David nodded, realizing that over the course of the last few days he had rarely eaten anything at all. "Alright, I'll meet you inside. There're some things I wanna ask you anyhow," she continued suddenly sounding very weary.

He watched her go into the farmhouse then walked around to the other side of the barn where the Autobots were still waiting. Sunstreaker was still peering over the roof at the animals in the field, only now Mirage was doing it with him, and they were mumbling quietly to each other. Jetfire was still nowhere to be seen.

"Ya'll can go in now. You might have to squish together a little. Beats sitting out here in the heat though," David said with an apologetic shrug.

Sunstreaker snapped his head at the human incredulously. "Go in where?" he asked tensely.

"The barn?" David half answered, half asked with another shrug.

"I'm not going in there."

"Why not?"

"Have you _smelled_ the air in there?"

"Get used to it," David said a little too roughly, turning his back to the Autobots and heading to the farmhouse before Sunstreaker could retort. He felt slightly guilty leaving his comrades to put up with the warrior's whining, but he also figured they were more accustomed to it than David was.

The tall man ducked into the doorway of the house and sat himself down at the small table outside the open door of the kitchen. A wave of nostalgia washed over him as he did so, and he inhaled deeply the smell of the house. The same woven rug decorated the floor of the room under the table from when he was younger, and the same sheer yellow drapes adorned the white-bordered windows. Everything was covered in a fine layer of dust now, even the framed pictures resting next to books on the shelves. Something bumped his leg, and David looked down to see a little black face gazing at him. He affectionately ran his fingers behind Kimmy's ear.

He could hear Marla's feet moving about in the kitchen, opening and closing cabinet doors. There was a pause in her movement. "David?"

"Mm?"

"I ain't heard from Jeb in a while…"

The man froze as if someone had just pointed a gun at his head. He tried to answer, but no words came to his mind, no sound came from his throat. The silence was all Marla needed.

"…I thought so." He could hear her take a deep shaky breath in the other room. "Which one?"

"Drag Strip," David answered mechanically, his voice having abruptly returned to him.

"Jeb never did learn to pick up his pace," she said with a rueful crack in her voice. "You gave'm a nice burial right?"

More silence.

"David?"

The man couldn't bring himself to respond. He struggled desperately to just say _anything_ when Marla suddenly appeared in the doorway. Her eyes were wide in horrific disbelief and her mouth hanging open.

"David!" she rasped as both a demand and a plea. "David Alexander Shepherd, you look at me in th' eyes and you tell me you gave Jeb a proper funeral!" she commanded. David flinched at hearing his full name; it had been so long since he heard it he almost had forgotten it.

The man just shook his head, mouth opening and closing like a dying fish and trying to say something. "I…I'm sorry Mama…"

"Don't you _dare _'Mama' me! Tell me you at least took back his body!"

David just continued to shake his head, his whole body beginning to shiver.

"You left him out there t'be picked by the dogs?!" the woman cried, her voice cracking hysterically. Under the table, Kimmy whined and scooted up against the wall. "What the _hell_ is wrong with you boy!? That man was like a father to you after yours went and got himself killed lookin' for your mama and your sister! He'd be so ashamed of you!"

David looked down at the table, unable to meet Marla's angry eyes anymore. Tears welled up as that familiar weight in his stomach returned. He was beginning to feel sick. He instinctively grabbed and yanked onto his ratty hair.

"Get up," the farmer ordered. David looked up at her, his face contorted in confusion and his hands floating about his head.

"Get your ass up _now_," she ordered again, her voice dripping with malice. The man did as he was told and stood using the table to support his trembling frame. Without any hesitation, Marla snapped her hand forward and seized the David by his hair. She stormed to the back door of the house, yanking him behind her and forcing him to bend down low. Behind them, Kimmy barked loudly in alarm.

"Ah! Ah! Ah!" David whined.

"Don' gimme that boy, you ain't got no right to snivel," Marla spat darkly as a mother would reprimand an unruly child. She dragged him all the way to the barn and ripped open the door with such force it banged against the side of the barn, sending a small shower of wood chips tumbling down. The Autobots inside looked down at her in alarm. Jetfire was now among them and sitting hunched over with his wings pressed against the lofts.

"Is everything alright?" Jetfire questioned cautiously, flicking his optics towards a teary-eyed David. Bluestreak cocked his head, almost imitating the angle David's head was being forced into.

"Out."

The mechs continued to stare at the fuming woman. "Get _out,_" she seethed. They didn't need to be told a third time, each scrambling and bumping into each other as they filed out the big barn doors on the other side of the building. Even Sunstreaker clamored to get out, practically crawling over Mirage.

Marla shoved David in angrily. "Make a proper memorial and beg God to forgive your sorry ass," she commanded, but the severity of her voice was diminished now. Without another word and without looking back at David, she slammed the doors shut with a loud clang that echoed all within the decrepit structure. The man stood in his place for a long time, sniffling and trying to hold back his tears indignantly like a child.

There was some shuffling outside the walls of the barn, and through the many holes David could see the big shadow of one of the Autobots.

"David?" asked Bluestreak in a whisper so soft he almost didn't hear it.

"What?" David responded in a choke followed by another unsuccessfully stifled loud sob.

"Are you alright? What happened, why is Marla so angry?"

The human bit back another sob, his shoulders heaving with the effort. "You should go Blue. I'll be out in a little while," he finally answered juvenilely, unable to think of anything else. After all David had ever been through, losing his family, his friends, and fighting enemies that were far superior to him in both size and strength, he could still be reduced to a small sniveling child by Marla.

He waited for Bluestreak to shuffle wordlessly away and walked to the side of the barn opposite of the stalls. He wedged his thin frame behind the stacks of hay in search of anything that would make a suitable grave mark.


	15. Awkward Turtle

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Transformers. All recognizable characters are the property of HasTak. All unrecognizable ones are the intellectual property of yours truly; their theft is punishable by severe voodoo-induced pain in any and all sensitive organs of the body, followed by eternal damnation.

Because, you know, stealing is wrong. (Which is funny because I totally ganked this disclaimer from Vaeru, with her permission of course.)**  
**

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**Rated:** T. For mild cursing, violence, and other adult themes that will probably ensue.

**Author's Notes: **Wow, so I usually try to update at least once a month and I've let this slip by for what, three? I apologize for the very late update and my only excuse is the same old one: School killed me. School killed me so bad I'm still burnt out by it. I'll try to be better about it.

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**Contra Mundum **

**Chapter Fifteen**

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_"Do you spend time with your family? Good. Because a man that doesn't spend time with his family, can never be a real man."_

**_-__Vito Corleone_**_**, The Godfather**_

* * *

The Autobots stood conspicuously in the small field between the barn and the farmhouse for several hours. Awkward did not even come close to a word to describe how confused and uncomfortable they felt standing around like that. David had been inside the barn for a long time now, loudly hammering two pieces of metal together and cursing himself all the while. Across the way in the farmhouse, Marla had locked herself in the upper levels of the house and shut the blinds on the windows. Neither had taken a moment to explain to the befuddled aliens what was going on.

Marla was terrifying; that was something they all unanimously agreed on. They had no idea what had caused her to be so furious, and the mechs figured it was best to touch as little as possible so as not to incur more of the woman's wrath. It was hard though; Sunstreaker continued to stare in wonder at the bovines in the fenced area next to the barn. Justifiably, the other mechs were very grateful his infamous twin was not here with them.

_Cripes, humans are sensitive, _Trailbreaker remarked over a private channel to Hound.

The jeep frowned. _They sure are. I wonder what happened._

_You think they're all like this?_

Hound thought for a moment, throwing glances in the direction of both the farmhouse and the barn. _I dunno know. I guess we'll find out._

More hours drifted by and the sunlight began to sink once again behind the western horizon. Jetfire and Bluestreak jumped in alarm when sparks began to fly from inside the barn. They disappeared as abruptly as they began and there sounded a loud clang, followed by a pained yelp. The two exchanged worried looks in the proceeding silence, they're blue optics faintly illuminating the encroaching twilight. All snapped their helmed heads towards the large wooden doors of the barn when the familiar form of David stumbled out nursing the fingers on his right hand.

He blinked tiredly at them. "Magnesium blades make for shitty welders," he said with a raspy voice. In the dark, human eyes wouldn't have been able to see how red and puffy David's were. But optics picked up on every abnormality on his body in the fading light, from the smudged dirt on his skin to the new burns on his fingers.

"What were you doing in there for so long?" asked Bluestreak.

He looked as though he was about to say more, but as he was about to answer Jetfire cut them both off, "David, please enlighten us as to what is going on here. Decepticons are running all over this area and we've just been sitting out here in plain sight for almost an entire cycle! You could at least give us an explanation," he said hotly, static just barely feathering the edge of his voice.

The human sagged further on his feet and rubbed the back of his neck with a shaky hand. He didn't really know where to begin for an explanation, but Jetfire was right. They did deserve to know what was going on instead of just stupidly standing out in the open, even if they had been in their vehicle modes. After all, a giant jet sitting in front of a farmhouse could only be so inconspicuous. David turned towards the last fading streaks of light in the sky, pondering over where he should start. He frowned; perhaps he should tale care of Marla first.

He turned back to the big white and red jet still waiting for an answer and shrugged apologetically, "Sorry. Look, I'll explain everything in just a bit. I gotta take care of somethin' first."

Jetfire wilted a little as the human jogged his way into the farmhouse. For the millionth time, the scientist wished Optimus Prime was here. He had way more authority and control over everything than Jetfire could ever hope to have, and he certainly would have been able to get a straight answer out of David without any trouble. He also probably would have been able to gain David's, as well as any other human's trust with barely any effort.

Not for the first time, he reflected on why Optimus had chosen the ex-Decepticon to lead this mission. He had no leadership skills tospeak of, his fellow Autobots didn't trust him, and it was nigh impossible for him to gain any sort of control over essentially anything. At this point, he was probably taking orders from David, who was virtually their only ally on this world and would have to be their liaison. It unnerved Jetfire, and probably the other Autobots, that they knew sovery little about human behavior while David knew so much about Cybertronians. The culture gap was vast and Jetfire hadn't the faintest idea on how to close it.

But for whatever reason, Optimus had said he had faith in the jet, and so far Jetfire felt as though he was greatly failing his leader's expectations

* * *

The house was dark when David walked through the back door. He called out for Marla, but made no move to turn any of the lights on. Using the walls to guide him, he cautiously navigated his way out of the kitchen, across the parlor, and up the stairs. It was not completely dark outside yet, but the twilight did little to disperse the darkness in the house.

The man softly walked his way down the short hall on the upper story of the farmhouse and into Marla's room. The woman was sitting on the edge of her bed with her broad back to him, hunched over and facing towards the windows overlooking the farm. The curtains on the windows were now drawn back allowing the blue light of the evening to filter into the room. David could just barely make out the Marla's features in the dim light.

He approached slowly, the damned floorboards squeaking under his weight, "Marla?" he asked gently. As he came closer, he saw that there was a small rectangular object in her hands.

"Why's God gotta test me so?" she asked without looking at him. David paused for a moment, not really knowing how to answer the question since he had never really believed in God in the first place. He came closer and realized the object in her hand was a picture frame, probably taken from the many sitting on her nightstand. In the twilight it was too difficult to make out what the picture was of. Whatever it was, the farmer must have been sitting in here for hours just looking at that one picture.

"I'm a good woman ain't I? I went to church every Sunday when I could, I prayed t'Him everyday, I broke my back running the farm for all those people…" her voice failed for a moment, and she took a deep and quivering breath, "Why's He gotta take everythin' from me?" She wiped a hand across her eye and struggled to keep her composure as David eased himself onto the edge of the bed with her.

The man could think of nothing to comfort her and felt frustrated for it. He wished he had faith, just so he would have something to say to her to make it better. Things that he had heard the more devout of the refugees whisper to one another over the years streamed through his brain and he groped desperately for any of those words to use now, but they all just seemed to fly away from him. David finally just leaned sideways and looped a long arm around Marla, trying to force all those intangible words in his mind to flow down his arm and into her, just so she could know he was trying.

"I'm so sorry, Marla," David said, still feeling as though his words were too simple. That they barely held the weight he felt they should, and in their simplicity were almost an insult. But just like everything else in his life, he made due with what he had even though it was greatly inadequate.

Marla removed one hand from the picture frame to gently lay it on the thin arm David wrapped around her, but said nothing. A long silence followed, Marla reflecting on everything she lost and David on everything he regretted. They tormented themselves, and maybe on some level each other, until David could no longer stand it. He stood up from the bed and pulled Marla up with him. He motioned for her to leave the picture and led her outside to where the Autobots were still waiting, and hoped that he had not lingered in the house too long.

Jetfire was sitting on the ground weary, but at least he didn't seem irritated anymore. Hound, Sunstreaker, and Mirage were all in their vehicle modes parked facing towards the cows. David figured they had all been having a conversation, and maybe they still were even if he and Marla couldn't hear them. Trailbreaker and Bluestreak were standing around Jetfire, Bluestreak looking contrite.

David stepped forward to them, leaving Marla a few feet behind him to eye the three cars watching her dairy cows warily. He looked up to Jetfire and raised a finger, "Just one more thing, and I promise I'll tell you everything." Jetfire nodded and the human disappeared into the barn for a few moments and emerged with two pieces of metal poorly welded together. Marla looked disapprovingly at it, but otherwise said nothing. She gestured for him to move it over near the farmhouse and David stuck it in the ground so it would stand upright.

Behind them, Hound, Mirage, and Sunstreaker transformed to join the other three Autobots as they peered curiously at the two humans. Once the metal was firmly in the ground and standing on its own, the two stood directly in front of it. They cupped their hands behind their backs, bowed their heads, and stood completely still. Marla was softly muttering the Lord's Prayer, but most of the words blended together incoherently.

Trailbreaker tilted his head to one side, his visor glowing brightly, "What're you doing?" he asked. David turned to answer him but was immediately cuffed on the back of his head by Marla. He quickly turned back around and resumed the position the farmer was standing in. The mechs blinked at each other, Hound leaning in the closest towards the humans as he tried to pick up Marla's words.

When Marla finally stopped muttering and finished with "Amen", the two faced back to the Autobots. The woman looked drained and David sent her on her way back into the house. He shoved his hands in his pockets and waited for Marla to disappear. When the back screen door clacked shut, the man cranked his head back to look up at the Autobots.

"You guys got God right?" he asked.

In response, the mechs looked even more confused than before, "What's God?" one of them asked.

David tried not to smile at the question, "Not a what. I hear ya'll say his name a lot. What is it again? Prius…Prime—Primus! That's it!" he said as he snapped his fingers. "He's your…your…crap, what's the word?"

"Deity?" offered Mirage.

"Yea, that."

Sunstreaker revved his engine a bit seemingly in amusement, but it was Jetfire who responded, "I suppose you could say that is what he is to us. But that would imply that he is not really tangibly existent, and that we purely believe in him regardless if he is real or not."

David frowned, "So he does physically exist?"

"Of course," Hound said, sounding a little baffled. Perhaps the aspect of someone believing in something that wasn't there would have confused David a bit too if he were an alien.

The human thought on that a bit, letting loose a sigh and running a hand through his hair, "That must be nice…" he remarked. "Well our version of Primus is called God, at least in this part of the world anyway. There's lots of superstition and rituals surrounding Him, and burying our dead is one of them."

Bluestreak's optic ridges came together that was very similar to a person furrowing their brow. He looked towards the metal cross, "But you didn't bury anything. You just stuck a piece of metal in the ground. Unless there was something there before that we didn't see, I guess."

At that, David looked down to the ground in shame, "We didn't have the body…but we held a funeral anyway, in his honor."

"Who?"

"…Someone we knew," was the only answer David could give them. Every time he tried to say Jeb's name, Marla's face appeared in his mind. Her eyes wide and horrified, ashamed and revolted at the reality of what David has done to a loved one. But the man knew that even if he could go back again, even if a part of Jeb was there, he still wouldn't have been able to take it and bury it. He couldn't bring himself to do it; he just couldn't stand the thought of seeing Jeb like that. What David had done was shameful and cowardly, but the fact remained that he just couldn't cope with the idea of seeing Jeb's dead body.

Suddenly his legs couldn't hold his own weight, and he swayed on his feet. He wanted to say that it was just because he was exhausted, and while that was somewhat true, to say that he was just physically tired would have been a lie. He wished he were back at the Safe Point so he could crawl into one of the rooms and just sit in darkness and let the silence drown his thoughts. He could go into the farmhouse, but he really didn't want to be anywhere near Marla right now.

Weaving through tall metal limbs, David went back into the barn without a word. He left the door open, figuring the Autobots would be antsy to get out of the open. Locating a ladder in the far corner of the room, the man climbed with tired, heavy arms and let his body slump into the hay stashed in the loft. Hard and prickly straws poked him in the face and everywhere else on his body, but David ignored the sensation. He just wanted to fall into a dreamless sleep and for the first time since he was a young boy, prayed to God for it

* * *

David awoke with a sudden start; his heart was hammering fiercely in his chest and sweat slicked his back, making the straw from the haystacks cling stubbornly to his shirt. He had no memory of what he had been dreaming but figured it probably was another nightmare. It was still dark in the barn and quickly glancing below the loft, David made out four big bulky forms in the shadows. His heart redoubled its efforts when he noticed the fifth and biggest form leaning against the loft. Apparently Jetfire's alt form was too big to fit in the barn, so he was forced to sit in his robot mode.

David initially shot backwards at the sight of the large Autobot, practically slamming himself against the wall of the barn. After he finally calmed down enough to reclaim some sense of composure, the human realized that he had not instinctively reached for his magnesium blade, or any other weapon for that matter. Optimistically, it could have been viewed as a step forward for him in his relationship with the Autobots. But it could just as easily be justified as David being wholly consumed by fear and it was the only thing that stopped any sort of attack.

Quickly scuttling around the imposing form, David scaled down the ladder and slipped through the big wooden doors. He told himself he just wanted some fresh air but it was hard to convince himself. Being further north, it was much cooler out for this time of year than he was used to. The moon shined high and bright in the sky, and the breeze felt good on his skin. The man took a steady, deep breath and shook the sweat out of his matted hair.

"That is disgusting."

David whirled around to see Sunstreaker's finned head peering at him flatly from over the side of the barn. He scowled at the silver face, "Everything is disgusting to you. The mud, the animals, the barn—"

"That pretty much covers most of the highlights your planet has to offer," the yellow warrior interrupted nonchalantly and his head disappeared around the corner. Cautiously David followed it, finding the Lamborghini sitting on the ground with his armored back leaning against the barn. The planks were bending under the weight, and David almost suggested he not lean against the old wood. However, Sunstreaker had obviously been out here a while. If he were going to make the barn cave in on itself, it would have happened already.

Sunstreaker did not turn to look at David again as he rounded the corner of the big barn, only stared somewhere far in front of him. A slight frown darkened the mech's face, though it was not nearly as frightening as it had been down at the coast. He merely seemed lost in thought and David's mind reeled at how human the simple act was.

"So…" David started awkwardly. The warrior barely even tilted his head in the human's direction. "On watch duty?"

"No. I figured now would be as good a time as any to get dirt and vegetation stuck in my joints and experience your insect population first hand," Sunstreaker answered tersely, batting away at some crickets to emphasize his point. David jumped at the sudden movement and began to wonder if maybe he should just go back into the barn and try to sleep. However the lingering feeling of the forgotten nightmare compelled him to keep himself awake a little longer.

The man looked to the yellow Autobot who, in the moonlight, appeared to have changed colors to a grayish-green. Didn't Jetfire say he had a brother? How did that work? Granted David had never really finished up his education passed an eighth grade level, but didn't one need to presence of genes to have a sibling? He thought it over, trying to come up with an explanation and came up short.

Damn it, he just had to ask, "Do you have a sibling?" the human blurted in a near demanding tone.

In response, David was pretty certain he got an eye roll, "A twin," he said.

"A twin? How?" the human asked greatly befuddled.

"It's complicated," Sunstreaker replied, flicking his wrist lethargically. He turned back to whatever spot in the sky had been previously entranced by. A long pause stretched between them and just when David figured the conversation was over, Sunstreaker asked, "Do you have any siblings?"

At first, the human was taken slightly aback: Sunstreaker showing interest? Did Hell freeze over? It took a while for him to recover his wits, but David eventually stammered out an answer, "Y-yea, I did. A younger sister." Sunstreaker scrunched his optic ridges together and yet another long, heavy moment passed. David had not thought of Jessie in a long time, yet another thing he began to feel ashamed for. If she was alive, how old would she be now? She was seven when the invasion began, which would make her about twenty-two now. Would he even recognize her if he saw her?

"What happened to her?"

David looked up at Sunstreaker, who had still not turned to look at him, "I don't know," he answered honestly. Memories flickered through his mind of the last time he saw her before evaporating and then the images began to elude him. David wondered if it was a coping mechanism his brain had created for itself, since he always had a hard time remembering that last moment his family was all together.

Sunstreaker didn't say anything after that, only continued to look ahead. It gradually dawned on David what was actually taking place at that moment: Sunstreaker was worried. All the signs were there. The tense silence, the way his hands clenched and unclenched, the hard look etched into his face. David had looked the exact same way, years upon years ago when he wondered the fate of his own younger sibling.

"Would you be able to tell if something happened?" he asked.

"Not from this far away," Sunstreaker said somberly, and then neither of them had anything else to say

* * *

David ended up not going back to sleep. He had stayed out with Sunstreaker for a few hours, neither of them saying anything, before he had gone back into the barn. He had lain back down onto the hay in the loft, but was unable to drift back to sleep. Instead, he stared at the ceiling right above him and thought about what to do when they got to the mountains. Every now and then, his imagination tortured him by flashing images of Jeb and Jessie, and he pushed them away as best he could. He couldn't afford to grieve anymore right now; there was so much that needed to be done.

The next morning felt very surreal and moved at an impossibly fast pace. Jetfire transformed into his jet mode so Hound and Mirage could load the crates in the barn in. Marla oversaw it all while David tended to the animals since the farmer was busy. He couldn't figure out how Marla did it all by herself everyday on top of everything else that required attention on the farm. He remembered helping her when he was young and staying with her, as well as any other people who were passing through on their way to the mountains.

It was much easier then with so many helping hands, but there was hardly any movement anymore aside from Decepticon drones. There was no one passing through to help in exchange for shelter. Marla was going to be in her sixties soon, and she couldn't possibly continue doing all of this on her own much longer.

It wasn't long before David was called back, the Autobots ready to go. He was surprised to see Marla leaning on Bluestreak in his alt mode. Trailbreaker was idly sitting to the side and by the looks of it the three were having a conversation. Marla was actually smiling and it did the man's heart good to see it. However, it faded slightly as David approached.

"I put a sandwich in Blue for you, you ought to ride with'im," she said. Bluestreak rocked on his suspension happily in response.

David nodded, "I will. You could ride with Trailbreaker, you know"

The woman cocked an eyebrow at him, "'Scuse me?"

"Come with us."

"You can't be serious," Marla scoffed. "I ain't leavin' this place."

"Please Marla," David begged, "You can't stay here, you can't keep doin' this." He paused a moment, realizing that he had just very much implied that the woman was getting too old. She didn't seem too offended, so he continued, "It's not gonna stay safe here, especially now. The drones will start sweeping the land—"

"Then I s'pose that doesn't make anywhere very safe now does it?" sheinterjected. To that, David had no response. He just stood in front of Marla with his hands held out to her pleadingly. She shook her head at him, "I'm not leavin'. I can't."

"Why not? No one's going to come through here anymore, you'll be all by yourself…" David's voice failed as Jeb's face flashed suddenly in his mind. It was just like that night at the Safe Point, just before he died and he had tried to convince David to go with him.

"And go live in the mountains, mm? Just like everyone else n' be cramped into a tiny little hole with hardly no food. No thank you, I'm stayin' here," Marla said as she lightly tapped Bluestreak's hood for emphasis. "You're right, I can't do it anymore. But that don't mean I have to leave."

She paused to look at him, her eyes beginning to turn pink, "There's too much I'd be leaving behind. 'Sides, I won't be alone. I got Boomhauer and the other animals," she said with a faint chuckle. The pig in question was nuzzling the screen door of the farmhouse with the other dogs. She had closed them into the house to keep them out of the Autobots' way while they hauled everything.

David opened his mouth to protest some more, but Marla didn't give him a chance to continue, "Contact me when you get there," she called as she sauntered back toward the house. She didn't turn to wave goodbye and maybe she didn't want to. Or maybe she couldn't stand to. Either way, David just let her go. He knew he couldn't force her to go if she didn't want to.

Behind him, Sunstreaker revved his engine impatiently, causing the dogs inside the house to bark. David waited until Marla disappeared into the house and when the screen door finally clacked shut, he let himself plop down in Bluestreak's passenger side seat. The Autobots waited for Jetfire to take off first, then followed behind him. Bluestreak was uncharacteristically quiet, but for now that was all right with David. He stared out the window as the farmhouse grew smaller and smaller, a part of him still hoping Marla would change her mind and run after them

* * *

The dogs were fed, the horses were left in the field to graze, and the cows were milked. There was work to be done in the fields, but it didn't seem so imperative to run out to them anymore. Marla stood over the counter in the kitchen with Boomhauer rooting around her feet. She gazed absently out the window above the sink that faced the barn and took a sip from the old stained mug in her hands.

_Something nudged her legs and Marla looked down to see the yellow face of a golden retriever looking up at her eyeing her drink eagerly._

"_Whut?" she asked the pup playfully, "This drink ain't for you. Go on, git. Out you go Berkely," she said as she opened the back screen door to let the dog out. She watched her romp around in the field between the house and the barn, running back and forth along the fence and barking loudly at the horses. Marla smiled and took a sip of her coffee. It had been a while since she had been able to relax like this._

"_Thank goodness for child labor," she chuckled to herself before taking another sip. Hardly a minute later there was a loud noise from outside. The woman looked back up out the window just in time to see a big brown cow trot across the field, and a short, scrawny young boy hastily chasing after it. _

"_Dammit Elsie, come back!" she heard him cry. Marla frowned; she had discouraged him multiple times from cussing. Then again, Elsie was a free spirit and loved to cause mischief. So maybe a curse or two was in order. The farmer smiled from behind her mug as she watched the boy clamor after the cow, slipping all over the grass and mud in his attempts to catch her._

_Behind her, Marla heard the front door open and close followed by heavy booted footsteps, "Dad's truck is outta gas," another young and distinctly male voice called. _

_Marla continued to watch the scene playing outside the house and called back, "I'll tell him to fill it back up when he gets back from the run to Galveston." Outside the small teenager finally grasped the reins of the cow, only to be pulled face-first into the mud by the tricky bovine. Marla couldn't help but laugh, nearly choking on her coffee._

"_Ronnie," she called, turning toward where she had last heard the voice. "Be a dear and go out and help David. Elsie got out again."_

"_Again?" asked the voice incredulously._

"_Yea," she giggled apologetically. Soon there was another boy with dirty blonde hair out in the field. Marla watched with a broad smile as Ronnie tried to grab Elsie's rein, only to be pushed away by David. Clearly the smaller boy had taken offense at the notion that he needed help. Ronnie just shoved the teenager away to try and grab after the cow again, only to be ambushed from behind by David. _

_Marla's eyebrows arched high as the two fell onto the ground, wrestling ferociously with each other. The woman sighed; she had warned David against brawling, too. She set down to go search for a water hose to break up the fight with. As soon as Jeb got back from the run, she was going to make him sit down with David for a little chat._


	16. Hide and Seek

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Transformers. All recognizable characters are the property of HasTak. All unrecognizable ones are the intellectual property of yours truly; their theft is punishable by severe voodoo-induced pain in any and all sensitive organs of the body, followed by eternal damnation.

Because, you know, stealing is wrong. (Which is funny because I totally ganked this disclaimer from Vaeru, with her permission of course.)**  
**

* * *

**Rated:** T. For mild cursing, violence, and other adult themes that will probably ensue.

* * *

**Contra Mundum **

**Chapter Sixteen**

* * *

_"Oh, God. Please don't let me die."_

**_-__John McClane_**_**, Die Hard**_

* * *

The rolling hills gradually flattened against the land to become vast yellow plains, speckled here and there with a tree or a rotted old fence. The abandoned fields stretched on for forever and slowly turned to a dry, desert landscape. High plateaus replaced trees, and the sun shone brightly overhead without a single cloud in the sky. The Autobots passed through ghost town after ghost town, and David got the feeling that they were probably deserted even before the Decepticons showed up. Once or twice Sunstreaker griped about the dust sticking to his bumper, but Mirage pointed out that dust and dirt were better than wet mud.

The dried up landscape indicated that they were somewhere in what once was New Mexico. David was tired and the loss of a night's sleep was definitely working against him. He didn't want to sleep, though, and struggled to keep his eyes open. If the Autobots were to veer off course, he wouldn't be able to guide them back. This was the path that was beaten into his memory, and if they didn't follow it exactly, he'd never be able to lead them to the hidden mountain settlements even if he did have a giant flying sentient compass at his disposal.

David gazed wearily out the window to the lifeless landscape that ran almost all the way from one horizon to the other, save for the blue speck of white-tipped mountains far in the distance. Since there was less vegetation out here, traveling was much easier. They were quickly approaching the Rockies, and soon movement would become far more difficult for the mechs. Despite the danger that the eroded mountain paths posed, the human was more worried about the welcome they would receive once they reached the first settlement.

Marla had mentioned that she would send a message ahead of them that would hopefully make things easier for them, but there was no guarantee that it would be acknowledged. People lived in such fear now, and now there were the rumors to deal with. It would be nothing short of a miracle if they weren't all shot dead in their tracks before even setting foot in Oasis. David groaned and rubbed both hands over his face.

The noise and movement caught the gunner's attention. "David you should really recharge. We can always just take a break, you know. Look, there's a building over there. Looks like there's other humans inside; I'll bet they'll be happy to let you rest."

The man sat up and squinted through the bright sun to spot a rickety wooden house wobbling through the haze. "No way," he said.

"Why not?" asked Trailbreaker's voice through the stereo speakers.

"We don't stop there. Nobody stops there. We just use it as a landmark," David stated as he eyed the house warily. Bluestreak's engine made a whining noise, and the human assumed it was a sign of confusion.

"I don't understand," Bluestreak murmured. "Marla welcomed other humans didn't she? What makes the humans in that house any different? They don't seem to have as many animals as she did, but that can't possibly be why they'd turn anyone away."

"With you guys struggling to survive, you'd think everyone would be willing to extend a helping hand," Trailbreaker contributed sounding greatly perplexed.

"You'd think that, but unfortunately that's not how things always turn out," David said grimly. "Funny thing about humans, we're not all entirely sane."

"Could have fooled me," rumbled Sunstreaker, and David turned to shoot him a glare from his seat.

"What I mean is, we've got some…fanatics. When the invasion happened, it really screwed some people up. Like, _really_ screwed them up. They holed themselves up in their houses out in the countryside, and now nobody interacts with them. Ever." David turned to look out the driver's side window at the house in the distance as they began to roll past it. "They're crazy, do some horrible things to anyone who comes knockin' at their door. It's best to just stay away from them and hope the Cons get them sooner or later."

A brief silence passed before Jetfire's voice came through the speakers. "That has to be one of the most bizarre things I have ever heard."

"And the most disturbin'. You'd wish somethin' like that on one of your own?" said Hound sounding a little perturbed.

David laughed. "I wouldn't exactly say they're one of my own. And besides, don't you wish things like that on Decepticons? Oh—" The man snapped his fingers and he leaned forward to tap the dash. "Don't use words like 'recharge' or 'slag' when we get into the mountains."

"Why not?"

"Those are words only Decepticons use. It will, uh, not be very well met," David said as he leaned over to start digging into the brown paper bag that contained his sandwich.

Sunstreaker revved his engine in the robotic version of a snort. "What? We use those words too. We used them even before the war started!"

"Nobody knows about the war, remember?" the human said as he shoved a large portion of the sandwich in his mouth. He did his best to keep any crumbs falling away from him. "It's just best to not use them."

"So what _do_ we say?"

"'Sleep' instead of 'recharge', 'shit' instead of 'slag'. That covers most of it," David answered absently. Looking out the rear window, he watched the dark house fade away. He turned his attention back to the rapidly approaching mountains.

The snack gave David a small boost of energy, which he used to teach the Autobots other English slang and phrases. It passed the time well; however, it sparked a heated debate over the use of the word 'cool'. Bluestreak could not wrap his mind around the idea of using a word to describe temperature as a term of acceptance. Sunstreaker and Mirage seemed to understand it well enough and tried to explain it to the gunner, but the discussion quickly became an argument.

David chose to sit back and enjoy the dispute when all communication between the mechs abruptly cut off. Barely a second passed before the line of Autobots suddenly veered to the left and took off at speeds that had David clamoring to get his seat belt back on.

"What's going on? We're leaving the path!" he yelled over the noise of Bluestreak's engine as he struggled to get the belt clipped.

"Stunticons! Coming up on us fast!"

That was all David needed to hear. His head shot straight up like a deer, frantically scanning all horizons, "Where? Which ones?" he asked nervously. Had it not been for the seatbelt he had had the forethought to strap on, he would have slammed his head against the roof.

"Not too far," crackled Jetfire's voice. "They're coming up fast from behind. It's Dead End, Drag Strip, and Breakdown."

"What are you going to do?" the human asked. "You outnumber them, and if you can take out at least one, they can't form Menasor."

"I ain't exactly excited to go toe-to-toe with the three of them out here; there's no cover anywhere," said Hound as he pulled alongside Bluestreak. David looked around the see the Autobots clumping close together. There was still no sign of any Stunticons coming up on them, but that would probably change very soon. He scanned each horizon, but an idea struck him as he looked toward the mountains.

"Trailbreaker, get your shields ready," instructed Jetfire's voice. "Mirage take the left flank and wait for an opportunity the strike. I'll provide air suppor—"

"Wait!" David cried, rapping Bluestreak's dashboard. "Could we make it to the mountains before they caught up with us?"

"Maybe if we hauled aft, but—"

"Shoot for it! There's tons of vegetation and uneven ground in the mountains. You'll find no better cover anywhere else!" David stammered as he fished for his bag and began taking stock of what goodies he had.

"Sounds like a good idea to me!" Mirage yelled as he shot ahead of the group, tires skidding across the dirt and kicking up large plumes of dust.

"Ditto!" yelled Hound as he took off after the blue Autobot, Sunstreaker following close behind. Bluestreak and Trailbreaker followed suite. The Autobots pushed themselves to the limit as they screamed across the remaining distance between them and the mountains

* * *

"Incoming," Jetfire's voice warned anxiously.

David had been deposited roughly on the forest floor as Bluestreak scrambled up the slope for a clearer shot. He wasn't terribly upset about it, but something else quickly caught his attention. It was cold. Granted, they were far north now and several thousand feet above sea level, but it still shouldn't have been this cold for June. It was still June, wasn't it? There wasn't exactly snowed piling on the ground, but it was enough to make the man shiver. Maybe he had just been in living in the Texas heat too long.

Hound was taking cover behind several evergreen trees to David's left, taking advantage of their dark green color in regards to his own. From afar, David seriously doubted he would have ever seen the scout unless he already knew where he was. Trailbreaker was to his right, crouching in a wide ditch with Sunstreaker. David couldn't even find Mirage and figured he had activated his cloaking device.

Considering his options, David decided to take cover next to the person who could generate his own shields. He slid into the ditch and positioned himself so that he would be behind the bulky, black form that was Trailbreaker but far enough away to be mindful of both his and Sunstreaker's large feet. Both Autobots seemed to completely forget David was even with them, staring with focused optics through the trees and over into a small gully.

Everything that occurred next happened so quickly it was almost surreal. Instead of the three Stunticons cutting across the open gully, they traveled sideways through the trees to avoid the trap the Autobots had planned for them. For whatever reason, Jetfire had given them no warning of the coming attack. Trailbreaker flinched as a shot struck a tree next to his head, and David felt it would be wise to take another step back.

There then came a flurry of shots from seemingly all directions. While the Stunticons were outnumbered, the decision to go into the trees turned out to be a slight advantage for them. Sure enough, the thick trees and the uneven landscape hindered them, but it hindered the Autobots as well. If anything, the choice to hide in the forest placed both sides on even ground.

David scooted further and further back to the end of the ditch and covered his ears as stray shots crashed deafeningly into the dirt and trees. Trailbreaker and Sunstreaker whipped around in every direction, trying to at least find their attackers. The human watched the display, wondering why the hell they weren't just pinging the Decepticons with their scanners, or why Jetfire wasn't even directing them.

The jet in question flew overhead, diving low so that he just barely missed the trees, but didn't fire a single shot. What the hell kind of air support was that? David watched incredulously with his hands still clamped over his ears as the white and red jet veered back up towards the sky and swung around for another pass.

Uncovering his ears, David almost called out for the two mechs in front of him, but instantly became aware of a very familiar, very loud ringing noise. He froze with his hands held still inches from either side of his head, listening to the ringing that could be heard over the thunderous gunfire.

_No…they couldn't be…_

David shoved himself forward and scurried up the side of the ditch so that he was almost eye-level with Trailbreaker. The black Autobot hardly paid him any mind as he frantically whipped his head this way and that, only occasionally firing a shot.

"Trailbreaker!" David shouted above the booms of the battle.

He received only the briefest of glances. "What is it?" Trailbreaker asked as he fired a shot in a random direction. Next to him, Sunstreaker appeared to do the same.

"Are your scanners blipping?"

"Everyone's is! We can't get a lock on any of their positions," the truck grunted in frustration. That was the answer David dreaded. His face must have paled considerably because Trailbreaker paused to stare at him. "What's wrong?"

"They've got scramblers!" the man cried.

Sunstreaker's head poked out from behind Trailbreaker. "They what?"

"Scramblers, these." David peeled back the little black chip from behind his ear with shaking hands. He held it out for Trailbreaker to inspect, Sunstreaker peering over his bulky shoulder at the tiny thing. How did the Stunticons come into possession of scramblers? They had always been a well-guarded secret among humans unless…

Oh, crap.

David never took back Jeb's body or any of the other refugees after Drag Strip attacked them. They had all been given scramblers before they left. If Drag Strip hadn't taken them immediately after wiping them out, he or another Decepticon must have had come back some time later and found them. The situation had suddenly become much more serious.

David looked back up into Trailbreaker's visor as he placed the chip back behind his ear. "Can you hear that ringing?"

The mech frowned. "What ringing?"

Duh, of course the Autobots couldn't hear anything. That was what was so great about the damn scramblers. Decepticons couldn't hear the high frequencies they emitted when they were cranked to full power. It was what allowed humans to communicate with each other when they were close but still couldn't speak aloud. But they had crappy battery lives, especially when they were pushed for all their worth. David looked into the trees; there may still be a chance.

"Stall 'em," he said not looking towards the two Autobots.

"And we're supposed to do that _how _when we don't know where they are?" Sunstreaker snapped angrily as his face grew dark.

"Where's Mirage?" David demanded.

Trailbreaker extended an arm slightly to the right. "Behind that fallen tree."

"Just keep shooting," David instructed. He then jumped to the other side of the ditch, clamored up the slope, and ran over to the log while trying to stay low. As he neared the rotting trunk, he slowed down. He didn't really want to slam into an unseen leg. "Mirage?" he called out tentatively. He also didn't want to attract any unwanted attention.

"David," answered a voice. The air in front of the man rippled and seemed to pull back, revealing the blue racecar to be startlingly close. David did his best not to jump backward and scream like a little girl.

Instead he motioned Mirage to lean down toward him. "They've got scramblers. Kind of like your cloaking device but not as advanced. Your scanner won't pick'em up, but you'd still be able to see them if we could find them." Mirage's optics widened at the news.

"The scramblers won't hold out for much longer, but maybe we can surprise them," David smirked as he showed the spy his own scrambler

* * *

The other Autobots were sent ahead while David and Mirage stalked through the forest. Although he couldn't see him, Mirage never strayed too far from wherever David was. It kind of frightened David to know the mech was not more than a few feet from him at any given moment, but on top of not being able to see him, he couldn't really hear him either. David couldn't hear Mirage's internal systems like he could with the other Autobots, and if he stopped to listen, he could barely hear the mech's footsteps. He tried to not let it bother him and focused on the areas between the trees.

His own scrambler was on, but on a low setting as to not blip the Stunticons' scanners and alert them of his presence. He took cover behind everything he could fit behind before moving, waiting long pauses to see where gunfire was coming from. The Autobots up ahead moved onward while firing at the same time, luring the Stunticons forward. Sooner or later, they would cross paths, and when they did Mirage would alert Jetfire of their positions. Because of his scrambler, David was able to offer another set of eyes as long as he wasn't spotted.

It wasn't long until the two figured out where the Stunticons were. They heard them before they saw them, and even then, it was really Drag Strip they heard first. Even over the gunfire, Drag Strip's voice could be heard hurling insults at both the retreating Autobots and his own brethren. Some were truly creative and others David highly suspected he picked up from humans.

As they crept closer and closer, following the sound of both the source of the gunfire and the triad, David found himself becoming anxious, yet angry at the same time. The more David heard Drag Strip's voice, the more it felt like someone pricking his brain with a needle over and over.

_You know, it's pretty sad if I can slag a van full off squishies and you can't even catch one!_

The man picked up his pace to a point where stealth was completely out the window, but the loud cracks and booms of heavy gunfire drowned out the sound of David's feet stumbling over rocks and breaking twigs. Images of Jeb and the other humans flickered through David's mind, urging him forward at an increasingly fast pace. There was a sudden flash of gold and white, and David found himself directly behind Breakdown and Drag Strip. Dead End was a little ways forward and to the left of them, shouting for the two Stunticons to fan out.

David ducked behind a tree as the two Decepticons drifted apart. The ringing sound was so loud now it was disorientating, causing the human to stagger clumsily. David tried covering his ears, but it only muffled the noise as much as it stifled the gunfire. At least with the scramblers being pushed so hard, they could only have at most a few more minutes of battery life.

Glancing behind him, David realized he had lost Mirage. It was unlikely that the mech had gone very far from him, but it made it feel that much more important not slip up. He chanced a peek over the side of the trunk of the tree he was crouched behind and saw Drag Strip walk toward the right from where he was. The man ever-so-slowly crept forward, waiting for the right moment to strike. He stayed so low to the forest floor that he was practically crawling on all fours. The crawling wasn't so much to keep from being spotted, as it was to just keep himself upright.

There was a sudden noise and a panicked cry to his left, and David froze as Breakdown fell roughly forward, almost as if he was shoved. The Stunticon shrieked loudly and spun around on the ground like a wild animal, aiming his gun in every direction, searching for a target. The disturbance attracted Drag Strip's attention and David seized the opportunity.

First, he hurled an EMP grenade at the 'Con's feet. The shockwave froze him up momentarily, and sent Breakdown back to the ground. There was a loud _pop _and the ringing came to an abrupt stop. David hoped the two Stunticons were now brightly lit on the Autobots' scanners, because he now had a very angry gold racecar glaring bright red optics in his direction. David's anger and bravado instantly evaporated, and he desperately darted back behind a tree. He hopped from tree to tree, expecting at every moment to have said trees ripped out of the ground or knocked over on top of him.

Instead, the sounds of the battle resumed, only this time it was directly behind him. Carefully circling back around, David came to a horrific sight. Drag Strip and Breakdown were flanking Mirage on either side and heavily barraging him with everything they had. David realized that when he threw the EMP grenade, Mirage must have had been in the vicinity of the shockwave as well and knocked his cloaking device off. The man began to panic, wondering where the hell were the other Autobots.

Mirage was fending off the two Stunticons as best as he could, but he looked like he had taken quite a lot of damage. His left arm was hanging limply at his side and there were two big, sparking holes in his body: one at his hip and one just below his chest plate. Drag Strip had lost all interest in David entirely and even the paranoid Breakdown seemed unaware of the human's return. Mirage fell to one knee, and it became clear that he was not going to make it in time for his backup to arrive.

Unable to think of anything else or conjure up enough bravery to run at the Decepticons, David whipped out his magnesium blade, and threw it was all his strength at Drag Strip. The red-hot blade struck true, sinking deep into Drag Strip's side. The Stunticon screeched and reeled backwards, clutching frantically at his side and trying to remove the tiny dagger. As Breakdown paused in his assault to stare at his brother, he was blindsided by a laser shot. The white Countach faltered for a moment before being tackled by a raging yellow blur.

As David watched Sunstreaker and Breakdown exchange blows on the forest floor, a flurry of gunfire filtered through the trees. David hit the ground and covered his head, praying not to be crushed by a giant metal foot. He heard the voices of the Stunticons crying out in alarm mixed with grunts and curses and with cracks and booms. There was the sound of loud jet engines overhead, and the human felt the dirt fly up and hit him in the face. There was a call for retreat, and it was strangely only a matter of moments before the sounds of battle finally died away.

David peeked out from between his arms and saw the welcoming view of Jetfire's large body bending the trees this way and that as he bent to the ground. Jumping up from the dirt, David rushed to the jet's side as the other Autobots joined them. They crowded around the torn form of a blue racecar, each with a deeply worried look on their faceplates. Jetfire bent over, his hands and fingers transforming into strange and painful looking devices as he tried to patch up what he could. Energon leaked from the wounds in Mirage's side, and David scooted to the side to avoid the fluid.

Despite the bad shape Mirage was in, he was still conscious and speaking. Hound crouched down with Jetfire, offering anything he could.

"I wish Ratchet was here," Bluestreak said mournfully as he looked down at the blue mech, his optic ridges coming close together.

Sunstreaker whipped around to face the gunner, shoving a finger in his face. "No, you don't. Don't _ever_ say that again. Don't even say his name," he warned darkly.

"Why? Who's Ratchet?" asked David.

"Shh! If you say his name, then he'll _appear_," said the yellow warrior ominously, waving his hands in a semi circle with his fingers splayed out. The theatrical response got a surprising amount of chuckles out of the other Autobots, even from the injured Mirage. Sunstreaker just glared at each of them in response.

"Ratchet is our very esteemed Chief Medical Officer. He's infamous for his temper, though, and no one knows that better than Sunstreaker and Sideswipe," chuckled Trailbreaker as he continued to watch Hound and Jetfire.

David was left impressed by the mechs' attitudes to say the least, just as he had been down at the coast. Either Mirage's injuries weren't as bad as they looked, or each of the Autobots' had insanely strong coping mechanisms. David just couldn't bring himself to chuckle along with them, surprised at himself for being so concerned for Mirage. He was a mech after all, and even though David had become very close to the Autobots over the last few days, he still didn't think he'd be so worked up over the aspect of losing one of them.

He ran circles around them, weaving in and out of legs and tree trunks, trying to see the extent of Mirage's damage from every angle. Some wounds, he noticed, he could probably help seal while others definitely needed supplies no one had. There would be supplies in Oasis, but they needed to get in the damn place first and—

David's mind came to a jarring halt when a big grey hand suddenly loomed in his vision. The human instantly jumped back but realized the hand belonged to Bluestreak. The gunner guided David away from Mirage's body and herded him close to Bluestreak's foot and lowered himself to David's level.

"Calm down a little. You're making all of us a little nervous running around like that. Don't worry; Mirage'll be fine. Jetfire's isn't exactly a medic, but he's still a scientist and knows how a mech's body should work. He and Hound will have him back to good as new in no time flat," the grey Autobot said reassuringly.

David wasn't really buying it, furrowing his brow at the sight before him. "He needs supplies you don't have," he stated. Jetfire turned to look at him grimly. "We have to get to Oasis, they can help him there."

"They're not just going to let us run in, are they?" asked Trailbreaker.

"No, but if Mirage is to fully recover, that's his only shot."


	17. Outside Help

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Transformers. All recognizable characters are the property of HasTak. All unrecognizable ones are the intellectual property of yours truly; their theft is punishable by severe voodoo-induced pain in any and all sensitive organs of the body, followed by eternal damnation.

Because, you know, stealing is wrong. (Which is funny because I totally ganked this disclaimer from Vaeru, with her permission of course.)**  
**

* * *

**Rated:** T. For mild cursing, violence, and other adult themes that will probably ensue.

**Author's Notes:** Kind of a funky chapter. It serves really to just get the ball rolling.

* * *

**Contra Mundum **

**Chapter Seventeen**

* * *

_"Today is gonna be a, uh, a less bad day. I can feel it. Sometimes I wake up and I just know that everything is going to be... less bad."_

**_-Ally_**_**, Ally McBeal**_

* * *

When the Autobots had changed to their bipedal forms to hide in the forest before the battle, they each realized just why the Decepticons never really took it upon themselves to pursue the humans within. The trees were tall and strong; they made just taking a few steps a serious challenge. With the uneven ground, the dead logs, and stray boulders, transforming to their alt modes was out of the question.

But now that one of their own couldn't walk by himself, moving had slowed to a crawl. With Sunstreaker being the biggest and strongest of the land vehicles, he and Jetfire struggled to keep Mirage moving. The cold air stiffened their joints, and leaves and dirt dug deep into vulnerable openings in their armor. Circumstances were abysmal all around. Even Hound found it hard to remain optimistic. Sunstreaker blamed David; he couldn't really give an answer why, but he was irritated, and the human was the one who had led them here.

On the other hand, the inconvenience turned out to be an advantage for David. If they had been traveling at a normal pace, it would have been very difficult for him to keep up with the wide strides of the mechs, even with the trees. But since everyone was moving at a snail's pace, all but crowding Mirage to make sure someone didn't accidentally slip and drop him, David could walk at his own leisure.

The only thing that proved to be detrimental to the human was the temperature. It was freakishly cold, despite the altitude. He originally told himself it just felt really cold to him because he had spent so many years in the Texas heat. But as they moved on, David wondered if that was really the case, especially when snow started appearing on the ground. He had been in a haze for a long time after Jeb's death; what if it had been longer than he thought? Texas summer heat was notorious for stretching into September and even October. What if he had lost track of time and, because of the heat, thought that it was still June? How much time had passed?

Trying to keep himself from shivering, David turned back to the struggling Autobots. "We're almost there," he said encouragingly. "Just over this ridge and across the valley. It's right in the side of the next mountain."

"You seem pretty confident they're going to just let us in without any grief," commented Trailbreaker as he carefully sidestepped a small frozen stream.

David smiled. "I got a plan." And what a plan it was; to him it was genius. To anyone else it probably would have just been obvious. David couldn't believe the idea didn't strike him until Jetfire removed a little generator that was part of Mirage's cloaking device when he needed to patch a seam. Why use scramblers if humans could produce tiny little individual cloaking devices? Well, try to produce. There was still no guarantee that the actual cloaking device could be fully removed. Still, it would make for a good bargaining chip.

As the group began to climb the steep ridge, it became painfully clear that it would be a challenge to get Mirage to the top. And that wasn't considering any watchmen or scouts that might be in the area protecting the settlement. It certainly would be very unfortunate to haul Mirage to the top of the ridge, only to be shot at and possibly knocked back over the ridge.

David turned back to the mechs and held out his arms for them to stop. "Maybe you guys should wait and rest a bit," he said as he looked worriedly to the blue mech. They had closed a lot of busted seams, but he was still leaking fluids from somewhere inside his body. It didn't look like Energon, but that didn't make it any less important.

Sunstreaker and Jetfire didn't argue; they gently set Mirage down before both flopped tiredly into the side of the ridge, kicking up bits of snow as they hit the ground. The other three Autobots joined the two mechs, each of them exhausted from the battle. David was feeling weary himself, but he wasn't about to sit down in the freezing snow.

Turning back around, David started back up the ridge when Hound stopped him. "Where're you goin'?"

"Gonna try and schmooze whoever's at the wall," David answered. He wrapped his arms around himself and struggled to keep his body from shivering.

"By yourself?"

"It's just like with Marla. Humans react better when they're slowly introduced to somethin' new," the man explained as he began to stamp his feet. The snow had completely soaked through his boots, and he was slowly loosing feeling in his feet.

"I'll help you," Hound said as he picked himself up and dusted dirt and snow off his armor.

"N-no, really. You don't—"

"You're freezin' anyways," interrupted the scout with a tired smile. That much was true; being partial to southern heat, David hated even the idea of being cold. Hound sidestepped his way around Jetfire, who was too tired to stop the two, and climbed up the ridge. When he was parallel to David, he transformed to his alt mode and the human dove in without hesitation. Even though Hound immediately turned on the heat, the warm air just slipped through his open cab. David scrunched up close to the vents on the dashboard and tucked his arms inside his shirt.

Hound's wheels struggled at first as he tried to make it up the rest of the ridge, slipping and refusing to grip anything in the snow. But eventually the snow gave way to damp earth, and Hound revved his engine as he muscled his way to the top and over the ridge. To the scout, the view on the other side was incredible.

A wide open valley stretched out in front of them, without any trees and almost completely covered in powdery, pristine white snow that shimmered in the sun's light. A tall mountain and rolling hills on the other side cast shadows over one side of the valley, dividing it into slabs of white, brown, and blue. Tracks, both human and animal, snaked around in the otherwise undisturbed snow in various places.

While Hound took in the surrounding beauty as much as he could, David was too busy hunched over with his face next to a vent, doing his best to warm himself up. When they were a little more than halfway across the open valley, he warned Hound to slow down. Reluctantly pulling an arm out of his shirt, David began sending out frequency signals from his near-dead scrambler. He then sat up straight and positioned himself to appear like he was driving.

Ahead of them, a low wall rose into view made of dead logs and boulders. To a mech, it was hardly intimidating at first glance. But David knew that on the other side, there was a deep wide trench following the low barricade. Concrete reinforced the wall underneath the snow, and a labyrinth of underground tunnels stretched between this barrier and the next.

As they neared, a head appeared on above the twisted branches. David waved and luckily received a wave back. That meant that whoever lay on the other side of the wall would at least let them get over there before shooting at them. David whispered for Hound to stop, and as the green jeep gently rolled to a halt, the owner to the head climbed to the top of the wall to greet them.

A boy, no older than sixteen, glared intensely at David as he pulled up. He was bundled in several layers of thin, torn clothes and covered from head to toe in dirt. He held an impressive looking automatic weapon close to his body with a finger on the trigger. There were probably other guards below the wall, all training their own weapons on David from between the logs and rocks.

David put on his best smile and tried to appear as least threatening as possible. "Hey, my name's—"

"Where'd you get a car?" the boy interrupted harshly, jerking the butt of the gun in the jeep's direction.

David blinked, looking down at the jeep then back up. "I found it."

"You found a working car with gas?" the kid asked, raising a disbelieving eyebrow.

"Yea," David answered, his smile fading and quickly replaced by a scowl. Did every newcomer receive this kind of welcome? It felt more like an interrogation than a welcome.

"I don't believe you," the boy declared after a very short moment of internal deliberation.

"Seeing is believing," rationed the older man. "Look, I'd like to speak to whoever's in charge please."

"What for?"

"Jesus, do you do this to old women and children too?" David demanded. "Do I look that threatening to you?" he said as he looked at his own body incredulously.

"There's news of someone coming here with a troop of 'Cons," said the boy, who was now aiming his gun at David.

The man promptly held his hands up in the air. "Look, my name's David. I ran the Safe Point in Dallas for ten years. I'm the last person who would betray what's left of you."

The boy seemed surprise to hear this. "Did you say Dallas?" he asked.

"Yea."

The boy continued to glare at him for a moment, his dark eyes boring into David's. It was times like these that David really wished he had a business card or something, so he could flick it at whoever questioned his authority. Eventually, the boy eased up and lowered his gun. His face softened, but his eyes were still fixed on the man, as if he'd suddenly rush at them wildly like a rabid dog.

The kid looked down over the other side of the wall. "Go get Elliott," he ordered to some unseen grunt below.

"And a receiver!" David called out, more to whoever was below than the kid on the wall. As he awkwardly waited to talk to someone, David began to wonder if everyone below the wall was the same age as the boy who was still standing and glaring at him. He wondered how many family members and friends each of them had lost, if any of them remembered or were even around to remember a time before the invasion. By now, an entire generation had almost completely grown without knowing a life of utter hell. If humanity was ever to return to a somewhat normal state, how could anyone carry on after all this?

It wasn't long before an older man and a woman roughly the same age as David appeared on the wall next to the teenager. David looked up at them as they in turn stared warily at the jeep. He was suddenly very grateful that Hound was very good at acting like something that was lifeless.

"Which one of you is the receiver?" asked David from his seat down below. Under normal circumstances, he probably would have already gotten out of the jeep already. But Hound was warm and David was still very cold in his thin t-shirt.

The woman raised her hand. "I believe you received word about me and my friends from Marla," David said calmly. The woman's eyes bulged and darted back to the jeep.

The man, presumably Elliott, snapped around to the boy who was still standing around, "Back to your posts, all of you!" he barked. The two then jumped down from the wall and seemed hesitant to approach at first. It was Elliott who walked up to David, leaving the woman to circle the vehicle in disbelief.

David finally rose out of the jeep, fighting back a shudder from the cold. "They ain't Co—"

"We know," interrupted Elliott, holding up his hands evenly. "We got Marla's message a few days ago,

* * *

In the time it took for David and the Autobots to leave from Marla's farmhouse and get to the mountains, a fierce debate had taken place with the council of Oasis. The woman who had received Marla's message concerning the Autobots had reported to the council immediately, and despite their best efforts, the information had leaked and the entire establishment nearly panicked.

Marla had reassured several times that the mechs that were coming were not Decepticons. The members of the council had complete faith in Marla as she had been their prime benefactor for years. The same went for David; since he and Jeb had helped so many get to the safety Oasis. And there was not a single one among them that didn't desperately want to regain the life they once had. Still, accepting six large mechs into the settlement was not well received by even those who knew Marla personally. Mechs were enemies, had been for over a decade. Feelings of bitterness, fear, hatred, and anger arose when the mere thought of them entered anyone's mind.

Elliott explained to David that the council had pretty much split in two over whether they should accept the Autobots' help. With the council in conflict, the settlement had devolved into a fearful mass of confusion and panic. Only Elliott and a handful of others struggled to keep the peace and try to contain peoples' fears. Although the situation was daunting, David promised he would help.

"I have something that may very well make up the council's mind," David said with a smirk. Elliott leaned in, but the other man just shook his head at him. "Before I show you anything, I need the best changer you've got."

Changers were something David had only recently learned of through the radio. About a year or two ago, a settlement further into Canada had captured a small Decepticon drone. After knocking it offline, an ex-computer technician had fiddled around with the thing's central computer and somehow reconditioned it. News had spread fast, and soon every settlement had their own battalion of changers at their disposal. They quickly became one of the most valuable assets a settlement had.

If anyone could help Mirage, it would be a changer.

Elliott seemed uncertain over the request, but seeing no other option, obliged. He left David alone with the woman as he left to find a changer. David watched the woman as she still circled the jeep, inspecting every inch of him but never actually touching anything. Her slim frame leaned into the windowless door of Hound's driver side door. He rested a hand over his mouth as he tried not to smile. If they did make it into the settlement, he suspected this would be a very common reaction to the Autobots.

"So…" the woman began in a small voice as she pointed at the green vehicle. "Is this…?"

"Yep," answered a metallic voice, and David slapped a palm to his forehead. The woman let out a shocked gasp and reeled backwards so that she landed butt-first in the snow. In an act of great speed and even greater gracelessness, the woman crab-walked backwards as fast as she could. Through small gaps in the logs, David saw several pairs of eyes duck beneath the barrier. Yep, they were just kids.

As the sun began to disappear, David returned to the warm seats of Hound's interior just as Elliott returned. Trailing behind him was a very jaded looking young girl. She carried a heavy duffel bag that forced her to double almost completely over as she walked. Frays of short blonde hair fanned out towards the sky from under the bag. As they approached, Elliott stopped and did his best "Ta da!" pose toward the girl.

David stared dumbly at her as she gazed apathetically back. He then looked around her: nope, no one behind her. He pointed wordlessly at her and received a nod from the other man.

"How old are you?!" David blurted tactlessly.

"Thirteen," she intoned. She swayed on her thin chicken legs as she struggled to keep herself balanced with the weight of the bag. Elliott chuckled and shoved her forward, almost causing her to fall face-first into Hound's fender.

"This is the best changer you have? She's a pre-teen zombie!" David exclaimed.

"You asked for the best, she's the best. Don't let her age fool you…or her demeanor," Elliott replied with a shrug.

David opened his mouth to protest, paused to look at the girl, looked back at Elliott, then threw his hands in the air. "Fine, whatever you say. Get in. But if I end up with a dead mech, you'll be answering to a very angry jet plane." At this, the girl's apathy melted into alarm. At least David now knew she was indeed human

* * *

"So you're really the best changer they have?" David asked again, still refusing to believe one so young could be gifted in such an area.

He got yet another very predictable eye roll from the young girl. "Yes," she answered for what seemed like the millionth time since they set out across the valley. Judging by the look on her face, this was a conversation she had had many times.

"Did you just wake up one day and decide you wanted to mess around in the heads of giant, homicidal, evil robots?" he asked and he felt the steering wheel shake momentarily. He figured it was the robotic version of a stifled chuckle.

"Just had a knack for it," she said, not even deigning to look at David. She merely rested her little chin on her hand as she gazed out Hound's open window, doing an excellent job reminding David why he hated anyone under the age of eighteen so much.

The rest of the trip was uneventful, aside from when David asked the girl her name. He learned it was Devin, and he was quite envious of her heavy wool sweater as the sun continued to disappear from the sky. By the time they reached the ridge, an early twilight had fallen as surrounding mountains blocked the sun's light. David did his best to ignore the increasing cold as he jumped from Hound and beckoned Devin to follow.

He didn't fail to notice the way she stared back at Hound before she trotted to the ridge's edge. Hound apparently did not feel the need to transform in front of her just yet. The other Autobots were still sitting just where David had left them, although Jetfire was hunched over a still Mirage while Bluestreak looked on in silence. Sunstreaker didn't look like he had moved an inch and had probably gone offline for the time being. The same went for Trailbreaker.

David looked to the girl with him, expecting to see a grand reaction full of flailing arms and incomprehensible stutters. But for someone so young, she had a strong grip over her emotions. The only thing that betrayed the fear she probably felt were the size of her large, green eyes.

"These are the Autobots," David said with a calm, reassuring smile. He knew that it was of the utmost importance for him to show the girl that there was no need to be afraid.

Devin furrowed her brow in concern and confusion. "You want me to change a mech?"

"No, we need you to fix him." He saw her jaw almost drop at the request. She looked back and forth between David and the Autobots, occasionally looking back at Hound, who flashed his lights at her cheerily. With a deep breath, she began to descend down the steep ridge. David took her bag for her as she went, fearing she would topple over and roll into someone's leg.

Just as the woman in front wall had done, Devin circled around the giant metal mess that was Mirage. She kept a wide berth from both Bluestreak and Jetfire, trying to ignore them and survey the blue mech's damage. David gently placed her bag on the ground, and then ran to stand next to Bluestreak. He got as close to the gunner as possible and tucked his arms back into his shirt.

Both Bluestreak and Jetfire seemed intrigued by Devin's presence. It occurred to David, that this was their first time seeing a human child. It made the man wonder if mechs had anything like children or adolescents. He knew they had siblings, so did that mean they had kids? They would need female mechs for that wouldn't they?

Unable to contain his curiosity, David poked Bluestreak's leg, gaining the gunner's attention. "Do you guys have kids?" he asked oh-so-eloquently.

"Kids?" asked the gunner, tilting his head at the human.

"Yea, kids. Children, offspring…fledglings?"

"Ah." Bluestreak nodded. "Not in the same sense as you, it would seem. We are created and are considered what I guess you'd call a fledgling for a certain amount of time. It just means we're young and inexperienced. We don't actually go through developmental stages. Well, not physical development stages," he added with a chortle.

David thought on that as the two looked back to the girl and her maneuverings. Whatever fear she held for the mechs was quickly overcome as Devin spotted some cut wires in an open seam. David figured she was able to suppress her fears because she worked with drones on a regular basis. Or she had amazing mental blocks.

Jetfire moved her bag closer to her, and she quickly went to work. Bluestreak activated his headlights in the dying light for Jetfire and Devin as they took turns working. The girl reached her arms into Mirage's body to repair whatever she saw that needed fixing, pulling different tools and materials from her bag periodically. Then she would stand aside and let Jetfire solder the seam or wires together. Whenever he did however, Devin would stand further back than was necessary. Mirage appeared to be offline through the whole thing.

Half an hour into it, David couldn't stand the cold anymore and begged Bluestreak to transform so he could get warmed up. By midnight, Devin had almost completed her task. She had worked circles around Mirage without rest. David was unsure about whether she had even blinked. There seemed to be a problem, however, when she had climbed on top of Mirage's chest and looked into the hole in his shoulder. Her fuzzy blonde head turned to David, and she beckoned him to come out.

Clenching his jaw against the harsh cold, David trotted across the patches of snow and jumped up next to Devin to see what she needed. Jetfire loomed overhead, waiting to offer whatever assistance he could provide.

"Down there," she said as she pointed in the still open wound. Bluestreak tipped his lights down slightly so they shined into the dark hole that was roughly two and a half feet in diameter. There were no leaks, no torn metal; as far as David could tell, Mirage was peachy keen. He shrugged at the teenager.

She gestured deeper into the hole with one thin arm. "Way down there, there's a rock. See it? If he were to get up now, it could really do some damage," she explained.

"So…get it?" David half asked.

The girl only shook her head at him and scooted back defiantly, "Too far."

David turned to Bluestreak and Jetfire pleadingly. Bluestreak showed the man his too thick digits in response.

Jetfire only shrugged. "I may have a lot of tools but nothing small enough to pull something like that out. If a medic was here, they'd be able to do it."

That left only one option. David cringed.

Making sure to take a moment to glower at the small girl next to him, David readied himself for something he had never thought he would have to do. Getting up on his knees, he straddled his legs wide, and firmly gripped the metal at the edge of the hole. It was a tight fit, even for someone as thin as David. He shifted his shoulders, carefully avoiding the torn, jagged edges of the hole.

Avoiding all circuitry and framework as much as possible, David dipped in with one arm extended forward until he was in just past his shoulder. Just beyond his reach lay a rock about the size of his palm, nuzzled between a cable as thick as his forearm and a bundle of wires. David held his breath, afraid to breathe in the air that made the hair on his arms stand on end. Extending just a little further, he nudged the rock with his middle finger and coaxed it closer until he was able to wrap his whole hand around it.

Slowly backing himself out, David took in a deep breath of fresh, cold air before presenting the rock to the girl next to him. Behind her, something big and yellow caught his eye. Apparently Sunstreaker had woken up and was now staring, mouth hanging wide open, at David in a mix of sheer horror and disbelief.

The warrior shook his finned, black head at David. "I don't care how badly I'm damaged, you are _not_ to do that to me. Ever. I…jus—no."


	18. The Kindness of Strangers

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Transformers. All recognizable characters are the property of HasTak. All unrecognizable ones are the intellectual property of yours truly; their theft is punishable by severe voodoo-induced pain in any and all sensitive organs of the body, followed by eternal damnation.

Because, you know, stealing is wrong. (Which is funny because I totally ganked this disclaimer from Vaeru, with her permission of course.)**  
**

* * *

**Rated:** T. For mild cursing, violence, and other adult themes that will probably ensue.

**Author's Notes:** Ok, so I totally missed the anniversary of my own fic by like, an entire month. I rule.

* * *

**Contra Mundum **

**Chapter Eighteen**

* * *

_"Why is it every time I need to get somewhere, we get waylaid by jackassery?."_

**_-Dr. Venture_**_**, The Venture Brothers  
**_

* * *

It was very late by the time Devin finished the small details that needed attention on Mirage's frame. David offered for the young girl to just spend the rest of the night there with the Autobots, but that seemed to make her uneasy. Jetfire thanked her for Mirage, since he was still out. Trailbreaker was the one who opted to take her back, given that the temperature had dropped well below freezing, and since Hound really had no windows or actual walls to speak of, it would have made the trip back very unpleasant.

David helped the young teenager load her things and decided to go back with her to see her off. He wanted to make sure she would get back over the barriers without being shot at by a certain pushy, young guard. As she climbed into Trailbreaker's cab, David got a good look at how tired she looked. The skin under her eyes was sagging so far he thought it would just flop off. It made her look like an old woman with the body of a child. Of course, he probably looked the same if not worse.

"Thank you," he said, leaning in a little from the driver's seat. "First time being that close to a mech huh? Let alone six." She only nodded wearily in response. "That had to have been really hard for you," he continued.

A louder, deeper voice from all around contributed, "We all really appreciate it." The loud voice startled both humans, who in their tired states were a little more jumpy than they would have been. "Sorry," Trailbreaker added after they both let out sighs. David could be heard laughing a little through his.

The sky wasn't as clear tonight as it was back on Marla's farm, but the moon still shined through open patches of sky and made the snow shimmer. David was entranced by it, almost to the point of rolling down the window to get a better look. It didn't snow very often in Texas. Dallas was pretty far north into the state, so sometimes it would, but only very rarely. Seeing snow was kind of a treat for the man, even if he hated the cold that came with it.

"How old were you when the invasion happened?"

David turned back around to find Devin studying him intently. "Same age as you," he answered, not particularly pleased at unhappy memories being brought forth to resurface.

The girl crinkled her forehead for a minute. "So you weren't old enough to drive?" she asked.

David stared at her, trying to grasp reasoning for such a bizarre question. "I don't see why that matters, but no, I was not old enough. Didn't stop me from stealing Jeb's truck when I was fourteen though." He smiled in reminiscence.

"Mom always said that it's important for us to remember all the little details about the way things were. So that if things ever go back to normal, it'll be like nothing ever changed," Devin explained, speaking slow as if she were reciting something. She looked to the man sitting across from her expectantly, like she was waiting for an answer that would compliment her statement.

David tried to smile at her, but it came out hollow as his brow furrowed. "That's a nice thought, but it'll never happen," he began and he could see her hopes evaporate almost instantly. Perhaps it was cruel of him to give such an answer to a child, but he wasn't one to keep deluding himself. Also, he was really tired. "Things will never go back to the way they were, ever. There's just been so many changes, so many losses. God only knows how much of our history has been erased."

Devin looked away from him, staring at her lap and slumping in her seat. David felt a pang of guilt and he shifted awkwardly in his place. He could almost feel Trailbreaker's accusing glare on him.

"But you know, this could all actually be a good thing, in kind of a warped way," the man started, feeling a strong urge to bring back a little hope for the girl. She gradually lifted her head up to look at him. "I don't know if you know this, but things were pretty shitty before we got invaded. Global Warming, wars, religious zealots, politicians…we were going to do ourselves in sooner or later. The Decepticons have devastated our species, but in that devastation we have become more cooperative with each other. The proof in that lies in the fact that we're still here," he said as he waved his hand between himself and Devin for emphasis.

"They've revived our planet. Granted it was so they could utilize every renewable resource to an insane degree, but Global Warming is certainly not something we need to worry about for a while. So you see, things won't ever be the same if we manage get rid of the 'Cons. But that doesn't mean it can't be better."

Devin considered him for a long time, and David wasn't entirely sure if he even believed himself. The silence began to stretch into an awkward and tense stillness, and David began to just wait for her to call him an idiot. But as Trailbreaker rolled to a stop before the low outer barrier, Devin nodded to him.

"I will keep that in mind," she said as she reached into the back and heaved out her bag. Hauling it over her shoulder, she jumped into the snow and made her way to the wall without looking back. She waved at some unseen person, before disappearing into the thick branches of the barrier. As she left, David belatedly realized how similar the situation had been that night back at the Safe Point with Hunter.

Trailbreaker spoke up as he began to roll away and head back to the small camp the Autobots had set up. "Did you really mean what you said to her?" he asked.

David had to think for a second. He was growing so tired he wasn't even sure if he remembered everything he said. "I think so. I certainly hope things go that way," he breathed as he leaned back in the seat. Exhaustion washed over him as his eyes drooped. What time was it? Had to have been at least two or three in the morning.

"Me too," David heard Trailbreaker say; it barely registered as his brain drifted into the sphere between consciousness and unconsciousness.

* * *

David did not remember the trip back. He had completely passed out not even a minute after he and Trailbreaker dropped off Devin. Unfortunately, his blissful, dreamless sleep was interrupted only a few hours later. The man awoke to a tapping noise on Trailbreaker's window and was painfully reminded of the position he had fallen asleep in. His long body was draped across the driver and passenger seats, his side lifted up weirdly by the console in the middle.

He sat himself up, rubbing his side, and was greatly surprised to see Elliott's smiling face peering at him from the driver's side window. Aside from being awoken at such an ungodly hour, David was a little weirded out by the other man's lack of apprehension towards Trailbreaker, and that was excluding the other Autobots that were still lying around the camp. He didn't look even the slightest bit nervous.

Without asking for it, Trailbreaker lowered his window so the two could speak.

"Mornin'!" Elliott chirped, wide-awake and eyes sparkling with energy.

David raised an irritated eyebrow at him. God, he hated morning people. "What time is it?" he asked in a raspy voice. He rubbed his throat gently, idly wondering if Elliott brought any water with him.

The older man raised a wristwatch to his face. "Eleven thirty-two. According to this thing anyway. I should probably tell you that it's been broken for eight years though." He lowered his arm and smiled widely at David, who continued to stare with sagging eyes.

"You're a little weird, aren't you?"

"Little bit."

David lightly tapped the door, and the truck obligingly popped it open for him. As soon as he was out, Trailbreaker took the moment to transform. Elliott took several steps back to view the spectacle in its entirety, letting out a slow whistle in awe.

He looked to David who was still hugging his side. "Never seen that up close," he said with a crooked smile. The black mech appeared to become a little self-conscious then and began to shuffle his way back to his comrades.

"What brings you here?" asked Jetfire from behind his spot on the ground, attracting the attention of both men and sounding just as taken aback as David felt. Mirage was still lying on the ground offline in front of him, but David noticed that all the dents and scuffs in his armor were gone.

"The council decided not to let you guys in," Elliott announced as if what he just said was good news.

"What?" David demanded, suddenly feeling more awake.

"They think you're too dangerous. That, despite what Marla insisted you are not to be trusted. But the way I see it, David and Marla didn't kill you, plus Devin made it back safely. She even spoke highly of you. Apparently that's not enough of a referral for them, so I'm here with my troops to prove those old farts wrong," Elliott explained with gremlin-like smile and a gesture to the top of the ridge.

Hound was already waving politely at quite a few men lining the edge. There was about twelve in all, ages ranging between late teens to mid forties. Not a single one of them looked as happy or as enthusiastic as Elliott to be there.

"How do you plan to do that?" David asked curiously.

"Marla said you got some supplies don't you?" the other man inquired, looking to each of the Autobots. He paused for a moment; finally noticing the intense glare he was receiving from the larger, yellow mech. Elliott leaned toward David. "He ok?"

David followed his gaze. "Uh, I don't think he's a morning person."

"Yes, we have the supplies," Jetfire answered, recapturing Elliott's wandering attention.

David looked all around the camp, having completely forgotten about the crates Marla had entrusted to them. "Where on earth are you keeping them?" In response, panels on either side of Jetfire's cockpit and around the lower part of his legs opened and the crates spilled out onto the ground in a series of loud thuds. The noise jarred Mirage awake, and Hound was almost instantly at his side to help him sit up.

"Wonderful!" Elliott exclaimed with open arms. He turned and whistled at the men on the ridge. "C'mon boys, let's get these over the wall." Several of the older men reluctantly made their way down, being mindful of the space between them and the Autobots. Some wouldn't even look at them. The younger boys remained at the top as they all formed a line running from Elliott to the top of the ridge.

"You brought us much needed supplies, you're not aggressive toward me and my men, and you'll help us carry these back. No Decepticon would _ever_ do all of that, even if they were pretending to be on our side." Elliott said sounding more focused. He looked to Jetfire. "They can't refuse you with such overwhelming proof that you're not 'Cons."

Jetfire nodded. "We'll do it." Elliott smiled excitedly while Hound and Bluestreak eagerly began pop open the large crates and pull out smaller boxes to place in the waiting hands of the humans around them. In perfect coordination they passed the boxes along to each other to the top of the ridge where a truck sat idling. Trailbreaker climbed the ridge and transformed when it became apparent the truck would not be able to hold all of the boxes.

Just like Devin, the men seemed to be able to work alongside the Autobots just as long as they kept themselves busy and moving. Unfortunately, that could not be said for one of the younger boys at the top of the ridge. Bluestreak, unable to contain himself, left his post to speak to the young human. He leaned against the hillside and chattered a million miles a minute at the poor kid, asking him hundreds of questions without ever pausing to let him answer. David tried not to chuckle as the boy became visibly perturbed by the gunner, backing away a little by little.

"So how long have you been here? Are you a guard, too? Do you know Devin? She was very nice and fixed up Mirage when he got blown to scrap by Stunticons. Oh, I'm sorry, I haven't asked your name!" Finally Bluestreak paused and waited expectantly for an answer. David and Elliott watched as the boy's eyes flickered to them and back to the gunner.

David really had to give the kid credit for attempting what he did. "No hablo ingles," he responded shakily.

Elliott snorted and was about to call out to the boy, but Bluestreak got there first. "¡Ah mi! ¡Lamento mucho, cuán grosero de mí! Hemos encontrado tantas a personas que hablan inglés, no ocurrió a mí que usted hablaría otro idioma." Everyone who had been busy hauling boxes and crates around stopped. Elliott's eyebrows shot up so high on his forehead they almost leapt right off, while David just let his mouth hang wide open.

"You can speak Spanish?!" David cried, utterly flabbergasted.

"Haven't you ev—r wondered why we sp—k English?" Mirage asked, his vocalizer fritzing a little.

"I…well, I dunno. The Stunts always spoke English and it never really occurred to me, seeing as I was always _running for my life_," David retorted defensively.

"Before reaching this planet we encountered a satellite," Jetfire began to explain calmly. "It was broadcasting phrases in many different languages. It appeared that several were based off the same formula, so we were able to interpret what you call the Latin-based languages on top of a few Asiatic languages."

Elliott stepped forward. "Is that how the Decepticons learned English too?"

"We believe so. I'd even go as far to say that's how they came across your planet."

A stunned silence followed, as Jetfire and the other Autobots sat unaware of the weight of what had just been said as it sank in. It made sense; many satellites had been launched into the solar system, several orbiting Earth itself. The idea that a signal from one of them could have drawn the Decepticon's attention was not very far-fetched. It was just that while humans knew why the Decepticons stayed, they never knew why they came in the first place.

A man in the line spat a curse, "Goddamn NASA." Several of his peers turned to look at him. "What? I always knew they were gonna screw us over."

"Well, I'd say that's a rather relevant piece of information," Elliott declared, dissolving the silence. The men around him returned to work, but hushed conversations started to buzz between them.

"There's more," David said, and the other man slid him a glance out the corner of his eye. "Lots more."

"Like what?"

"Like a war."

Elliott cocked his head at David incomprehensively. The younger man began to recite to him everything the Autobots had told him about the war that had ultimately led them to Earth. Not long into it, Elliott placed a hand on David's shoulder and led them away from earshot of the others. He never interrupted David, not even to ask a question. As he continued, Elliott's demeanor changed dramatically. He went from cheerily over-energetic to dead serious by the time David finished up.

"Does anyone else know?" Elliott asked in a voice so low and soft, David almost missed the question.

"No, not even Marla," he replied, trying to keep his voice at an equal level. He wasn't sure if he had made a mistake in confiding into Elliott the details of the Autobots' history, and his drastic change in behavior began to make David nervous.

Elliott breathed a long sigh. "Don't mention it to anyone. _Anyone_. Understand?"

"Why?" David asked.

"Did you ever spend much time in a settlement in the beginning of the invasion?" Elliott asked, casting a glance the men who were almost done loading both trucks. They seemed to be getting along more amiably with the surrounding mechs, although Sunstreaker kept to the back and appeared to want nothing to do with the lot of them. But neither he nor anyone else seemed to be paying any mind to the two men.

"Not really."

Elliott continued to stare at the scene behind them. "Being invaded by giant, hostile aliens is hard enough for people. Everyone's lost someone or something dear, everyone's hurting. And that makes it easy for them to want to blame someone, anyone."

He turned back to face David. "It started out with the usual scapegoats. Oh, it's all the gays' fault or the fundie Muslims. They went down a line, blaming every political, racial, or religious group they can think of, every excuse even more ridiculous than the last. Even feminists! Because y'know, it's gotta be someone's fault right?"

David's eyes began to grow as he realized what Elliott was saying to him. "If you give them someone to blame, everything's going to blow up. Even if people cooperate long enough to chase out the 'Cons, they'll turn right back around and chase your friends out, too."

"But it's not their fault they came here," David retorted a little more harshly than he meant to. "It's not like they could foresee what the 'Cons would do, let alone control 'em." David felt his accent gradually returning, but he made no attempt to smother it.

"And it's nice to know you are enlightened enough to be aware of that," Elliott admitted, "but most people aren't. All they will see is that they started a war that ended up getting the people they loved killed—"

"Did you have someone you loved get killed?" David interjected. He suddenly found himself very suspicious of Elliott; he even began to feel belligerent toward him. Why was he telling him all of this? Was it a warning or the makings for blackmail? He didn't know Elliott enough to know and now he feared he had confided too much in him. No one was ever this eager to help out a stranger, let alone aliens, unless for a price.

The older man paused. "Yes."

"Then what makes you different than all o' them?" David spat, his movements becoming more jerky and erratic. "You didn't have to tell me all of that. You didn't have to help us!"

"You didn't have to help them either," Elliott said evenly as he nodded his head in the Autobot's direction. David scrunched his face up at him in confusion. "You trust them, right?"

"Yea, but what does—"

"And don't they trust you? What makes you trust each other?"

David began to grab the bangs of his hair in frustration. What was with this guy?

"The possibility of achieving something _better_. We have a real helping hand extended to us now, and we have to trust it as much as we have to trust each other." He looked David in the eye, his face beseeching the younger man. "David, I just want my life back. And neither I, nor anyone else, will get it back without this."

A tense silence fell, and David belatedly became aware that the men behind them had finished loading the boxes and were now casting nervous glances at him. Several of the Autobots had now shifted their attention to the two as well. Elliott stood in front of him, hands held slightly out toward David as he waited for some sort of response.

Finally, David let out a stressed sigh. "Just see what you can do about getting us in. We were being chased by three Stunticons the other day, they might still be hanging around." Elliott lowered his hands back to his side as his face reset to a flat stare, still waiting for something more. "You won't hear another word about the war," David added and received an approving nod in return.

Elliott briskly turned away from him, whistled and waved to the men who were still standing and waiting. "Off we go!" he called loudly but far lacking the enthusiasm from earlier. The men quickly snapped back to attention, hopping onto either truck and were gone. Some cast glances back at the Autobots just before they went over the ridge, some worried, some hopeful. As they hurried to their truck (some hesitantly sitting on the edges of Trailbreaker's bed) David seized the opportunity to snag a jacket off one of the men as they ran by. The man stopped to try and take it back, glanced at the remaining Autobots, and decided to just leave it.

"What was _that_?" asked Hound, looking at David and pointing a finger at the withdrawing humans.

"That was a lot of very disciplined humans," David replied squarely, ignoring the annoyed frown the jeep shot him.

"That's not what I meant."

"He doesn't want ya'll to mention the war while we're in the settlement, that's all," he replied monotonously as he slipped on his stolen jacket. It was a little small for him; his wrists stuck out a bit beyond the sleeves, but it was warm. He took a seat upon a boulder and patiently waited for whatever response they would receive from Oasis

* * *

The mission to locate Shockwave and discover the Decepticon secret to a seemingly endless resource in a draining war had become something of a paradox. Jetfire and the other Autobots had indeed successfully located Shockwave's ship and consequently stumbled upon Earth. Initially they had been ordered to not engage, the mission was simply reconnaissance. But by the time they had reached Earth, the Autobot faction was beginning to grow desperate. They no longer sought to win the war, only to survive it.

Upon reaching the small, remote planet, it became clear that Shockwave was not actually on it. Only a handful of Decepticons were currently on the surface, and they were widespread. The fact that so few were down there led Jetfire to consider that the Decepticons were not as well off as the Autobots perceived them to be; rather one side was suffering just as bad as the other. The Decepticons had only had the good fortune to discover this seemingly endless well of resources. It enabled them to produce swarms of drones and use them to their advantage. Luckily for the Autobots, they were nothing compared to fighting another actual mech.

Jetfire and his unit were given the ok to go in and try to force the Decepticons out, thereby hopefully claiming this asset for themselves and possibly turn the tables. The only real concern was the possibility of facing Menasor. After discovering sentient life on the planet, the Autobots were hopeful that the locals could maybe provide help against the possible threat Menasor posed.

That hope was dutifully shattered when David first attacked them. Then it was crushed once more when the human did so a second time. Since then, the mission had really become a downward struggle. Part of being an Autobot was the belief that every sentient being in the universe deserved freedom, but that ideal was hard to uphold when your own species is struggling for survival and another species is being difficult and therefore making your struggle even harder.

The Autobots had shown great patience to the humans they had encountered thus far, but their own species' urgency still loomed in their minds. Jetfire knew that Sunstreaker's tolerance had already run out, and he had no idea what was keeping the warrior together. Now they sat in a cold and dirty forest clearing with an unresponsive human, waiting for a bunch of other humans to simply give them the ok to come into their hovel. The small part of Jetfire that still considered itself a Decepticon was disgusted by the indignity of it all.

No, he mustn't think like that. What would Optimus say? These small creatures were just frightened, and rightfully so. The jet still remembered what Decepticons did to foreign species once they decided to infiltrate. And even though the Autobots were struggling to survive, so were the humans. Probably more so, it wasn't like they had very advanced technology nor did they have any physical advantages to speak of. It was a wonder they had survived and flourished in a time before the invasion at all.

As Jetfire noticed a caravan of vehicles approaching, he once again smothered that indignant, venomous part of him and informed David of the incoming visitors. A band of heavily armored vehicles screeched to halt at the edge of the ridge, and several armed humans stepped out, along with the familiar face of Elliott who stood in front. Bluestreak gave David a hand up the ridge, and the two began discussing once again. Jetfire eyed the guns the others were holding as the conversation went on. They were small, but similar to Decepticon weapon design. Despite their size, he knew they would easily pierce thick Cybertronian armor.

David's voice drew the jet's attention: "They're letting us in. They've set up a small base area for you."

"How generous of them," Sunstreaker quipped sarcastically.

"Be nice," Jetfire said to the yellow Autobot and partly to himself. He steeled himself for whatever they would face passed the barrier and helped Mirage to his feet. He was happy to see the spy in better shape, but the cold hindered Mirage's healing somewhat and caused him to move a little slower than the others.

They trudged across the flat, snow-covered clearing, although with all the humans surrounding them, it felt more like a prison march. The other humans kept their weapons trained on each of the Autobots until finally David snapped at them to put guns away. They crossed several low barriers like the first, each filled to the brim with peering humans.

As they reached the bottom of the large mountain, the Autobots got their first look at the haven David called Oasis. They stood together, all of their mouths hanging open. The place appeared to be nothing more than a giant scrap yard. Tons of garbage littered the vast area, several large but dilapidated buildings poking out of the mess. Jetfire suspected there were hundreds more buried somewhere beneath all the scrap as well as an underground system of tunnels that probably even ran into the mountain. Some of the trash had been cleared away in some areas to make way for snaking paths through the settlement. This "oasis" was nothing more than a giant slum, everything so close together it was a miracle there was even air in there for them to breathe.

Jetfire looked to David and was surprised to see the man look just as stunned at the sight before them as the Autobots.

"This is…" he began to say.

Sunstreaker finished for him, "A dump."

"_Sunstreaker_," Jetfire hissed disapprovingly.

"Wha…" David stuttered as he spun to look at Elliott. "What happened?"

The other man shrugged. "What do you expect? There's only like a dozen or more other settlements, all of which had to hold thousands of refugees over the course of fifteen years. Of course overcrowding is going to be an issue. Just be glad this isn't Endicott."

"The last time I came here it wasn't even this big, they were still building…" David said, his voice sounding distant.

"There were only two thousand people here then, now there's probably over twenty-five thousand crammed in our tiny little abode," Elliott explained then clapped a hand to David's shoulder. "Home sweet home!"

"So, where are we staying in all of this? It barely looks like there's enough room for us to walk," asked Trailbreaker as he leaned to and fro, looking out into the unorganized mess before him. For a place that supposedly housed thousands, there was barely anyone walking around.

"Behind all this, a little ways up the mountain. It's, uh, well I guess you could it a testing facility. It's nice and big."

"A testing facility? For what?" asked Mirage suspiciously. It was hard to believe anyone would try testing anything volatile in such close proximity to a densely populated area.

"We gotta protect ourselves somehow, have to find out what's strong enough to go through your armor," Elliott said. He walked over to Bluestreak and knocked on the armor covering his leg. "And it's too dangerous to go too far away from here. Animals, Cons, and Crazies."

"Anywho, we'll take it from here," he gave a sharp nod and more humans jumped out of the cars. Jetfire recognized them as the men Elliott had with him earlier. He couldn't help but feel slightly relieved to see them take position around the Autobots as opposed their other escorts. "This way."

The Autobots descended in a line down in the slums, Jetfire in front and Hound bringing up the rear. David trailed alongside Bluestreak, every now and then casting a glance in Mirage's direction as if to make sure he was still there. Elliott's men circled all around them, but instead of training their guns towards the Autobots, they were pointed away.

Down they walked, further and further into the suffocating clutter. The path they followed was muddy and covered in brown colored, icy slush from a recent snow. It was highly uncomfortable, but David appeared to be having a worse time dealing with it than the Autobots, and it wasn't long before they all noticed a smell that seemed to get worse as they went. Jetfire could only imagine what the stench was but tried his best not to.

"People live in this!?" Sunstreaker suddenly erupted, his voice crackling and breaking the silence that had fallen over the group. "This is revolting! The barn and funny-looking animals were bad enough, but now this is raw _waste_. At least the animals dumped within an enclosed area!"

Jetfire carefully swung around to get to the warrior, cautious of the humans below as well as the slush, "Sunstreaker—" he started.

"No! This has gone damn well far enough," Sunstreaker seethed as he chopped his arms through the air diagonally. The men below him instinctively ducked even though his large hands didn't even come close to their heads. The yellow mech's frame began to shudder and his engine began a rumble that was quickly elevating to a dull roar. "This is has been one choice situation after another, and for some reason, we always seem to end up wading through some sort of sludge! What is the point of all this, really? Tell me Jetfire, is this all _really_ worth it?!"

It was almost like Sunstreaker had read Jetfire's mind, and hearing it out loud was too much for the scientist. "Sunstreaker, that is enough," he said forcefully, pinning the warrior with a fierce glare. "All you've done since we've arrived is whine and complain like a fledgling. I know you miss your brother and you have issues with your paintjob, but you are an Autobot warrior. Act like one. One more outburst like this and I'll throw you in the brig."

"What brig?! We're in the middle of nowhere!"

"Then I'll make one!" Jetfire retorted, finally raising his voice enough to yell and causing his vocalizer to sputter into static. Sunstreaker settled back a little, still glowering defiantly back at Jetfire, but was silent. The air grew tense as Jetfire stared back at the warrior, daring him to say something back.

"There's a river near the warehouse…" Elliott offered tentatively. "The water's clean, you could wash yourselves off."

The still-irritated jet snapped his head down to snap at the man but paused when he saw a group of humans he didn't recognize standing behind him. They stood wide-eyed, gazing up at the spectacle of two bickering giants.

Elliott turned to them. "Told you they were just like us."

Jetfire whipped his head around; there stood even more humans on the other side of the path. The other Autobots caught on and began to look around. A large group of humans stood behind them and had probably been following them. As they looked around them, more and more started to come out of seemingly everywhere. From under piles of stacked scrap, from out of holes in the ground, and peering out from between open gaps in the crumbling buildings. Their numbers seemed endless, and Jetfire couldn't even begin to imagine what it was like trying to cram them all into this small area they called a home.

All of them shared the same look of fear, but they were curious too. Most kept their distance though some brave ones circled the mechs to get a full view. They whispered and murmured amongst each other, and Jetfire prayed for Sunstreaker to be able to control himself.

To the side, Bluestreak leaned in toward one of the buildings. A group of children that appeared to be even younger than Devin peeked out at him. When he raised a hand to them, several squeaked and all quickly drew away instantly from the window. The gunner's doorwings fell as Trailbreaker pulled him away from the building.

Finally, Jetfire looked to David and was concerned by the look the man had on his face. He looked like he was about to go into complete system failure; his eyes bulged and the skin of his forehead wrinkled intensely as his head jerked from person to person. He backed up between Hound and Mirage. As more and more humans appeared, David's anxiety seemed to climb ever higher. Looking at Elliott, Jetfire noticed the man seemed tense as well.

At first the jet thought they were nervous because of Sunstreaker's outburst, but they seemed to hardly pay him any mind and focused on the growing crowd. Jetfire suddenly realized that their main concern was not the still simmering warrior but the other humans.

He recalled their reluctance to allow the Autobots in as well as the threatening weapons their original escorts held. It dawned on him that David and Elliott feared an attack. He quickly sent an internal message out to the other Autobots, instructing them to stand still and appear as least threatening as possible. They did so without protest; even Sunstreaker lined up but continued to turn his glare out onto the population, which really was not helping.

Minutes passed that felt like hours, the Autobots just standing completely still with humans gazing fearfully back and hardly anyone saying anything. Jetfire used the time to observe each face more meticulously than before. While most humans still appeared to be afraid or uneasy, there was a considerable amount that actually looked hopeful, most of which seemed to be at the younger end of the age spectrum. A small handful looked completely panicked or even downright enraged. Those were the ones that worried him.

Elliott stepped forward to address the crowd as his men circled around David and the mechs. He cleared his throat to speak, but before he could get anything out, the sound of a scuffle caught everyone's attention. Back by the rear, directly behind Hound, one of Elliott's older troops was wrestling with another man who was shouting loudly. The crowd instantly parted around them and the Autobots froze, afraid to make any sudden movements.

Elliott ran to the scene while David stumbled frantically backwards, tripping on Trailbreaker's foot and landing on his back in the half frozen mud. The sudden movement became a trigger; that side of the crowd suddenly scattered as the shouting man finally pulled free from his attacker. He brandished a small handgun and fired. A flurry of shocked gasps and yelps erupted from the crowd as half the people dropped to the ground.

The bullet pinged loudly off Hound's armor, and he winced. There appeared to be hardly any damage, but Jetfire didn't doubt that it stung. The crowd gasped again, and humans clutched each other as they waited for a reaction from the mechs. Some broke into a run and fled. Four of Elliott's men dog piled on the still raving man and wrestled the small gun from his grasp. David sprang up from the ground, sending a shower of mud in every direction. He ran to Hound as Trailbreaker, as calmly and slowly as he could, inspected the scout for what little damage there was.

"You see!" Elliott cried to the crowd. "There's you're proof right there! Any Con would've gone berserk for sure!"

Jetfire released a sigh and put a hand to his face. "Yea, a Con or Sunstreaker," he muttered.

_Damn straight I would've, _the warrior hailed back through the private network.

* * *

**Author's Notes Continued:** Free Translation (dot) com doesn't always do the best job translating, but this is essentially what Blue said in Spanish: "Oh my! I'm so sorry! How inconsiderate of me! We have found so many to people that speak English, it did not occur to me that you would speak another language."

As for the satellite, there actually was a satellite going through space broadcasting greetings in different languages. A lot of them sounded like they were inviting aliens to come eat us. I think it was called the Voyager, I stumbled across the website some time ago. Unfortunately, the site is no longer up.


	19. Spill the Beans

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Transformers. All recognizable characters are the property of HasTak. All unrecognizable ones are the intellectual property of yours truly; their theft is punishable by severe voodoo-induced pain in any and all sensitive organs of the body, followed by eternal damnation.

Because, you know, stealing is wrong. (Which is funny because I totally ganked this disclaimer from Vaeru, with her permission of course.)**  
**

* * *

**Rated:** T. For mild cursing, violence, and other adult themes that will probably ensue.

**Author's Notes:** After 4 months of no updates whatsoever, I'd be surprised if anyone out there is still reading this.

* * *

**Contra Mundum**

**Chapter Nineteen**

* * *

_" It's a simple formula. The greater the tragedy, the greater the emotional effect."_

**_-Legato_**_**, Trigun**_

* * *

__There were way too many people. They poured endlessly from all directions, from under every surface and out of every hole like a plague of rodents. They seemed to want nothing more than to simply get a look at the Autobots, but their ever-increasing presence sent David into a panic attack. He didn't understand it; he had never had a problem being around other humans in his life. He ran the Safe Point in Dallas for ten years, for Christ's sake! But as more people came to get a look, the more David felt the urge to withdraw from them. He felt like a cornered animal under their gazes and shied away to any Autobot leg he could get behind.

After Hound had been shot by a hysterical, screaming madman, a sense of shock had spread throughout everyone present. Thankfully, Hound had suffered barely a scratch and didn't really seem too upset over the incident. Elliott and several other members of his small unit managed to subdue the raving man very calmly and quickly. The event had sent David's anxiety to a new high. He grew suspicious of every face and was quickly overwhelmed; his heart pounded loudly in his ears, and his legs refused to function properly. They wobbled, and his knees would lock, often threatening to slip in the stinking sludge again.

Elliott came around to help him move along when he noticed his slow and labored pace, but David instantly shoved him away. He stubbornly told the older man to mind his own business, but when Elliott threatened to have one of the Autobots carry him, David reluctantly accepted his help. He kept his eyes on the ground as they walked, Elliott's shoulder under his arm to prop him up and take some weight off his legs. As long as David pretended the people around them weren't there, his anxiety began to slowly sink down to a manageable level.

The ground began to slope dramatically upward as they came to the side of the mountain. David finally pushed Elliott away again, insisting he was strong enough to walk on his own. There were less buildings now and not nearly as much junk lying everywhere. The smell had vanished, and it was easier for everyone to walk, although the mud was still deep and two degrees away from being completely frozen. David had lost feeling in his feet long ago and hoped to get to the warehouse soon so he could take off his soaked boots and warm his legs up.

As they traveled further up the side of the mountain, David took a moment to look back at the slum bellow. Just looking back at it made his stomach twist sickeningly. It was confusing to know that he felt relieved to get away from the crowded environment. At first he wondered if it was just the close surroundings that had bothered him but came to recognize that he now preferred the Autobots' company as opposed to anyone down there.

The human shook his head. There was no way that could be true. He ran the Safe point practically by himself for a decade, only every now and then receiving a helping hand from Jeb. He had single-handedly cared for groups of fifteen or more refugees before sending them on their way and had not felt any sort of anxiety when Elliott and his men helped him back out on the edge of Oasis. So why was it that seemingly ordinary people initiated such a violent reaction?

_Maybe it was the number of people,_ David thought to himself. In the years since the invasion, he had never really dealt with more than thirty people at once. He had spent some time in Oasis when the invasion initially took place but did not stay longer than a few weeks. He was sent to live with Marla on her farm until he was old enough to learn how to run the Safe Point. After inheriting it, there were sometimes long periods between refugee groups. There was even a two-year period when he had not had any human contact. David had learned to cope with being alone and forgot how to function in crowds.

Now that he spent every waking moment around the Autobots, he felt himself gradually withdrawing from other humans. That bothered him greatly, but he hadn't the faintest idea what to do about it. It was obvious that he was now going to spend most of his time with them, at least until the Decepticons were forced out (assuming that would happen within David's lifetime). He wasn't exactly their direct liaison; obviously Elliott could fill in for that role quite nicely. As much as he hated to admit it, David had grown reluctantly attached to the Autobots in their short time together. He highly doubted the feeling was mutual with all of them, but certainly he had developed a strong friendship between himself and Bluestreak, Hound, and Trailbreaker.

His thoughts were interrupted when his body suddenly wracked with a wave of tremors. Since his little fall in the mud, the jacket he had snagged had been soaked, and he was now freezing.

"Are we there yet?" he asked through chattering teeth as he quickly stripped off the filthy jacket. His t-shirt was still relatively dry, and he preferred short sleeves to a wet jacket.

"Almost," Elliott assured. He turned to look at David and snickered at his shivering frame. "Not used to the snow are you?"

David clamped both arms around his body in a pitiful attempt to warm himself. "Not particularly," he answered dryly. "Is it always like this during the summer?"

Elliott cocked an eyebrow at him. "It's mid September. Snow's a little early this year. Don't have a calendar in Dallas?"

"Mid September? Really?" He blinked. _More time must have gone by than I thought_, David said to himself. "I don't even want to imagine what winters are like here."

"They're better than they used to be. Granted, every winter has been getting steadily colder than the one before it, but at least everyone deals with it better. My first winter here was bad, real bad."

He wanted to ask why, but something told David he didn't want to know the answer. He stopped to look back at the junkyard below. He remembered people were still installing pipelines and electrical wires when he had been there as a boy. Judging by what he saw, either the pipes and wires failed in what they were supposed to do or the settlement was overwhelmed by the amount of people that fled to it. Obviously the sewer system in some if not all areas had been busted (and God knew how long it had been left like that). Most of the buildings were falling apart, and many more were makeshift hovels, so it was doubtful that most had any electricity or heating to speak of. Winters must have been very hard indeed.

Winters in Dallas had never been necessarily hard, but they sure as hell were long. Every winter, movement between groups of refugees increased greatly. Decepticons would move further south when temperatures began to drop, as the cold began to annoy them too much by stiffening their joints. As they went, humans seized the opportunity to move from place to place. But even without the Decepticon presence, moving in winter was so much harder and riskier than in warmer seasons.

There were some groups that had been lucky enough to find some way of transportation, but as the years went on, that occurred less and less. Gas had been manually pumped out of every station that had not been destroyed or converted, and it was not long until all of them were sucked dry. Vehicles had now been rendered useless for the most part; the only reason the shuttle at the Safe Point still worked was because Jeb had gone to great lengths to stock up on gasoline before it ran out, and it was hardly ever driven. After the first group of refugees came into the Safe Point, Jeb had started hiding the jugs of gas. He never really told David the exact reason why.

Most groups walked from point to point, and that was the danger. People got sick, ran out of food before the next Safe Point, and injured themselves one way or another. The biggest threat of all was the animals. Winter meant food was very hard to find for big predators like mountain lions, wolves, and bears. Any group that dared to travel unarmed signed their own death warrants.

When a group arrived at David's Safe Point, they were usually exhausted and desperately hungry. During those times he had had to be far more alert for people trying to steal from him. Squabbles between refugees were more common then, and it was guaranteed that there was at least one person in every group David would have to wrestle to the ground for trying take something from him or someone else. On several occasions some had been killed during a scuffle. Never between him and them; he took too much care for that, even though he threatened it enough. It always happened when David was asleep in his little nook, and he would awake to a gunshot or the sounds of people crying out.

All of that had just been with groups of people. What sat below David was a settlement, a small city. Thousands of people, all with the same issues, crammed into too small a space. As bad as all this was, bigger settlements to the north had to be an absolute nightmare.

* * *

The meaning of salvation varies from person to person. To David, a set of warm, new clothes and a small space heater were physical incarnations of the word. Just like the jacket, his new long-sleeved shirt and pants were a little small for him and very worn out, but he was happy to have something dry covering his arms. He kicked off his heavy, wet boots, planted himself on the floor and put his frozen toes close to the space heater. Oh yes, this was heaven.

He leaned back, pressing his weight against his arms and craned his neck to look at the ceiling high above him. The warehouse turned out to be not just one building but three big ones. They were built into the mountainside, so they actually stretched out further than they appeared from the outside. The façades of each building were made of steel, but skeletal. They had clearly been constructed late in Oasis's development and were made with whatever could be found or spared. The rest of the structures were all pure rock from the mountain.

The Autobots had no trouble standing tall in the warehouses, though Jetfire did have to sidestep every so often because of his wingspan. The floors had been for the most part cleared away. Crates as well as a variety of things had been shoved to the back wall. Some of it looked like random scrap, and some looked to have been halfway built into something. The third building had been closed off since almost everything that had been held in the first two buildings had been stuffed into it.

As big and impressive as these warehouses were, they didn't provide very much for comfort. The walls and floors were all bare stone and were just as freezing as the air outside. David's rear eventually went numb as he kept his feet near the heater. Hound strode by him, his large metal feet clanging loudly against the ground and sending echoes that rang in David's ears. The jeep inspected every corner of the structure, appearing to be wholly fascinated by every little detail. He often squatted in front of the random objects pushed against the far wall, lifted up things to get a closer look, but always put them back just as they were.

Jetfire was outside talking to Elliott with Mirage, and the other Autobots had gone to the river to get rid of the mud that caked on their feet. Even Trailbreaker seemed eager to get the sludge off him, though David certainly didn't blame him. He would have joined them if he had not been so sure the water temperature would kill him.

"It's just one big surprise after another."

David looked up to see Hound peering at him from over one boxy shoulder. "What do you mean?" he asked.

The green mech turned to face him and placed a hand on the hard wall. "We've been to a lot of planets, seen tons of things. Even before the war we've encountered organic life, both sentient and not." He tapped lightly on the wall. "But of every species we've seen, none have had such a great understanding of engineering as you do. It's just amazing that ya'll are so small, but you can build something so big."

David scoffed lightly. "It's not that big to you," he said as he wiggled his toes, thrilled to have some feeling starting to return to them.

"But it is to you," Hound countered with a drawl, "and those buildings back in that city near the coast, they were pretty big too." He lifted his hands in a sweeping motion above his head to emphasize his point.

"We have an inferiority complex," David explained with a chortle. "We make things big to cover for bein' short."

The mech laughed. It was still a strange noise to David, only vaguely resembling a normal human chuckle and amplified by the openness of the warehouse. "I guess that goes for us as well."

"Ya'll aren't small though," David pointed out bemusedly.

"Yea, to you we're not."

That was a little alarming. "What could possibly be bigger n' you?" he demanded and leaned forward expectantly.

"'Lot of things," he answered vaguely. He gave David a lopsided smile. "Let's just say we understand your perspective more than you think."

The human's eyebrows leapt high and his jaw dove low. "Whoa."

"Whoa what?" asked a third voice. David whirled around from his place on the floor to see Elliott standing behind him.

David shook the image of a mech two or three times the size of Godzilla romping through a city and stood to greet the other man. He flinched a little when his bare feet touched the floor.

"Nothing," he said a little too quickly. Jetfire marched in behind Elliott, looking none too pleased.

David gestured toward the jet. "What's up with him?"

"The head of the council wants to have a word with him. She's still pushing for strict and invasive regulations concerning your friends. Essentially, she doesn't even want them to breathe without being watched by fifty guards," Elliott explained with an annoyed grunt.

"I don't think they breathe."

"You get my point."

Behind them, Jetfire tromped over to Hound and instructed him to retrieve the other Autobots. His words were quick and sharp, and his voice wavered with encroaching static. Granted, David had not known the Autobots for very long, but he had never seen the scientist angry. Never even thought it could happen. It was a lot more unnerving to him than it probably should have been.

Hound left in a hurry, leaving the jet to walk up and down the length of the warehouse with a scowl that could match Sunstreaker and his wings flared up high. David and Elliott tried to remain completely still as Jetfire paced briskly back and forth, trying to go unnoticed. It didn't work.

For whatever reason, Jetfire paused and snapped his head directly at David. "You creatures have such a vague concept of trust that it almost perfectly mirrors Decepticon behavior." The statement struck the two humans as ironic; the tone in the mech's voice sounded like it came straight from Motormaster's mouth. David shrank in on himself, feeling the familiar pang of guilt. He had shown them first-hand how hard it was to gain a human's confidence.

Elliott on the other hand clearly disagreed with the sentiment. "I'd like to think I'm pretty damn trusting," he said, doing very little to hide the offense in both his voice and his face. Jetfire stopped his pacing and gave the man a look. "You know, I took a big risk getting you in here. Sure you could've been Decepticons, but a group of Cons ain't as scary as a horde of angry humans. I'm still surprised they didn't shoot me the second I proposed accepting your help."

Jetfire opened his mouth to retort back but stopped himself. He took a step back and lowered his wings, but the glare remained on his white face. Elliott loosened up a little. "Look, I'm sorry about this, but afterwards you won't have any more trouble. At least, not from us."

The mech ran a tired hand over his face. "Just let me know when she gets here," he said in defeat. Hound came back in then, the rest of the Autobots trotting behind him. Well, at first it looked like the rest of them. They all looked a little uncomfortable as they stood a little too still, and David realized they were short one. Bluestreak was not with them.

Jetfire noticed it about the same time.

"Why is Bluestreak not with you?" he demanded tersely.

Someone shoved Trailbreaker forward, and he gave an annoyed look to those behind him before he spoke. "He decided to wander back down into the settlement. We tried to convince him it was a bad idea but he took off."

There was a moment of tense silence, and then suddenly the room erupted into the strangest noises ever heard by human ears. The Autobots appeared to be arguing, but they were no longer speaking in English nor any other language David had ever heard. There were loud warbled shrieks, chittering metallic noises, high screeches followed by low thrums, cracks, chirps, and harsh broken sounds. The echoes of revved engines and the hisses of air suddenly being expelled from vents added to the chaos of the din. Jetfire, making the most noise, was clearly berating them. Trailbreaker and Hound appeared to be making hasty explanations and were joined every so often by Mirage. Sunstreaker would snap back at Jetfire whenever something was directed at him, which got him flack from the others. David figured they were equivalents to '_Shut the hell up, dumbass!'_

The ruckus was so loud that David saw Elliott had clamped both hands to the sides of his head. As the argument progressed and the noises became increasingly louder, David followed en suite. He was pretty sure the entire racket was wafting down the mountain to the town below. It was sure to lighten humanity's view of the Autobots, he thought to himself.

Jetfire stepped back finally; throwing his arms in the air as he said in English, "Just go get him!" Hound was the one who volunteered to go find the gunner and sped off without another word. He damn near barreled out the entrance and just missed a small woman at its edge. The jeep whirled around to sputter out an apology before taking off once more. The woman stared after him, her face showing neither anger nor confusion. She turned back to look inside.

Elliott cleared his throat. "Jetfire," he said gently as he jammed a thumb in the woman's direction. The scientist looked to the entryway and straightened himself. Ever the diplomat, he showed none of his frustration or weariness as he calmly approached her.

David leaned to one side to see around Elliott as Jetfire walked. "That's her?" he asked. He got a nod in return. The woman was a lot older than he expected her to be; she appeared to be older than Marla. She was small, maybe reaching a total of five feet and three inches, and despite her heavy clothes, looked to be nothing more than skin and bone. As Jetfire drew closer, she looked even smaller and frailer by comparison. She did not appear to be the least bit afraid, however, as her stern face betrayed nothing as she watched the giant white mech come to a stop before her. She motioned for them to move outside but turned for a moment to give David a nod and glare momentarily at Elliott.

He sighed ruefully. "No matter what I do that's the only sort of greeting I ever get from her."

"Why?"

"To her, I'm just here to make her life difficult," Elliott answered. David waited for him to elaborate but when it became clear that he would not, the two just let the subject drop.

"Well," Elliott chirped suddenly, "I should go find Devin. I asked her to do me a huge favor concerning some of your friends."

David waved him off. "Make sure Hound and Blue don't get killed too," he said as he plopped onto the floor by the heater once more. Among other circumstances he would've joined Elliott, but the thought of the cold and the memory of his experience down in that hellhole made it seem like almost nothing was worth going into that town again.

* * *

"For someone who is suspicious of us, I find it odd you chose to come meet me here by yourself."

The woman craned her neck to flash Jetfire a derisive smile, narrowing her eyes into thin slits on her withered face. They both stood on a dirt path that rose not far from the warehouse, which overlooked a forest valley between mountains. The sky had become gray, and a light snow began to fall. Jetfire was crouched on one knee to make the conversation a little easier for the councilwoman, but he did not face her. Instead, he chose to stare out at the valley as snow collected on the already white-frosted trees, throwing her a glance every so often.

"Yea, about that. That was something that had to be said. Otherwise they'd run me out of town for showing you any sort of open hospitality," she replied. Jetfire could not tell if she was being facetious, but he noted the callousness of her voice.

"What about David then, and the others? Will you run them out?" Jetfire questioned bemusedly. Snowflakes began to seep into the seams of his armor, particularly into the open area below his neck. The sensation of the frozen flakes landing on a hot wire or tube was minute but annoying nonetheless.

She shrugged. "They're not public officials now are they? Well, Elliott is but people are used to letting him get away with all kinds of crap. I got a reputation to keep around here and I can't afford to get booted."

Jetfire stared. "Your race is falling apart and you're worried about your reputation?" he asked numbly. '_Such thought processes could mirror Starscream himself!'_ He thought inwardly.

"A little. If only 'cause a little old lady like me couldn't possibly survive outside these gates alone; I'd be tossed out for being a traitor. 'Irma the 'Con-Sympathizer', that's what they'd call me."

"We're not Decepticons," Jetfire snapped. Just how hard was it to make these creatures understand that?

Irma whirled to give him an insulted glower. "I know that! You think I'm stupid?" she spat irritably. "If you were 'Cons in cahoots with David, you'd have gone apeshit after the green one got shot at."

"Then what are you here for?"

"To find out what you're here for."

A silence fell between them as the two stared at each other. Jetfire was taken aback by the woman's audacity as Irma seemingly dared him to a fight. Till now, most of the few humans he had encountered showed some level of fear or curiosity (aside from Elliott). It was something he had started to grow used to. It seemed, however, that there were still surprises this race had yet to throw at him.

Irma eventually eased back a little, recollecting herself into a less offensive position. "What made you come here?" she asked evenly.

Jetfire did not answer her, so she asked again, this time a little more demanding, "Why are you here?"

"To help you," he intoned. He looked away from her and back into the gray haze that spanned in front of them. The conversation was now well into dangerous territory, and he could not think of any other viable reason for him and the other Autobots to be on Earth. Surely that was the same answer Optimus would have given?

He would have meant it though.

She narrowed her glare at him. "Don't give me that crap. I'm not a fool. People don't do shit for free, and I'd think that'd double for anyone from outer space."

The Autobot still could not bring himself to answer her. _How do you tell a damned race that you haven't come to save them?_ he asked himself. Even as a Decepticon, such a dilemma was never his problem to deal with.

"Has David ever told you anything about our history before the invasion?"

The random change of subject threw Jetfire off a bit. "Not really."

Irma snorted. "Well, when you get a chance you should bone up on it. Humanity is a _horrible_ thing. You only see cooperation and compassion among us now because we're on the short end of the stick, and even now we still bicker. But before the invasion…I'm sure your race has committed its own sins, but the _atrocities_ of ours…you think you got it bad having your race split into threes? I couldn't even get along with my neighbor." She leaned against a large boulder in the mountainside, placing her arms behind the small of her back and looked up at Jetfire with all cynicism gone from her face.

"Humanity does not deserve to be saved. Why would a far advanced race deign to help us pitiful things, when you probably got enough problems of your own? David may believe you're just some good extraterrestrial Samaritans, but I have my doubts. What makes you risk your life, your friends' lives, all for our little speck of existence?"

* * *

Hours had passed, and the light of day had long since faded. Snow was still falling outside, steadily burying the world in pristine white powder. A series of electric lights were placed evenly apart along the floor of the warehouse, providing just enough light for work to be done. Regrettably, they did not provide very much heat.

Jetfire was still gone, presumably still talking to the councilwoman. David had thought several times to go out and check on the two, but Elliott stressed to leave them alone. Bluestreak, Hound, and Sunstreaker were close to the entrance of the warehouse, where a crowd of brave humans from the settlement had gathered: there were guards among them as well, but they were more for the Autobots' sake than the humans present. Many in the crowd were very young with a handful of adults. Bluestreak was happily chatting away to anyone who would listen while Hound was firing one question after another. Sunstreaker hung a little back, pretending to be bored but clearly interested in the exchange.

Trailbreaker was laying offline on his back on the stone warehouse floor. Perched on his boxy black chest was the small form of Devin, sweat peppering her brow even in the cold as she tinkered with this and that. She opened one compartment after another as she patiently searched for his shield generator. Mirage loomed over her as he directed her movements, explaining what some parts were and their function as she went.

On the other side of Trailbreaker sat David, watching patiently as the girl worked. Elliott had been sitting with him, but he had left a little while ago to join the small throng at the front of the warehouse. David was not particularly fascinated by what he was watching, but that didn't make it any less important.

It had been Elliott's idea: since the invasion, humans had been experimenting with Decepticon technology as a means for defense. David himself had come up with a variety of weapons from the scrap he collected, and even though it had given humanity a leg up on survival, it was only just barely keeping them going.

Now that there were allies who were of the same race as the Decepticons, they could willingly share their technology and provide an even bigger advantage. Sure enough, when Elliott had asked, Mirage and Trailbreaker had opted to share their unique abilities. The desired outcome of this was to create newer and better defenses, maybe even offer better offensive weapons so humans could actively fight back. Since Devin was the most gifted changer in Oasis, it was her job to find something useful and utilize it.

David also knew how to weaponize most mech-technology he came across, but since he usually built things using trial and error, the job was better left to the young girl. Devin seemed to be more comfortable in the Autobots' presence now; she was less stiff and her eyes less wide. She was still relatively quiet, only speaking when she had a question or needed something.

She had finally found the shield generator and was now trying to remove it without causing any damage to Trailbreaker. She would eventually reattach it, but for now she would use it to make something similar. Mirage sat back to let her work and peered forward every few minutes to check on progress.

"David? Can I ask you something?"

He jerked at the sound of his name. He was so comfortable next to his little space heater that he had been gradually falling asleep. "Wha-what?" he asked dazedly.

"Where were you the day of the invasion?" Devin asked as she continued to gently work the generator out. She did not pause to look at David.

"…You ask a lot of people that, don't you?"

This time she did stop. "Yes." Almost immediately, she began to look as if she wished she had not opened her mouth.

"Why do you want to know something like that? Wait—don't tell me. 'Because its important to remember' right?" His face grew dark as he looked at her. He wasn't angry with the girl, but it was still something he would rather forget. He had not even thought of it in many years. "Well honestly I don't remember a lot of it." David waited for her to say something, maybe ask how he could possibly forget something as huge as a catastrophic invasion… the same way Jeb had asked him how he could forget his parents' faces.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to…I just—It's just something I want to hear about. Everyone always has a different story," Devin muttered. She bent down and began to resume her work as Mirage shifted uncomfortably beside her and Trailbreaker.

David stared at the floor. He didn't want to think about the invasion, didn't want to remember it. But now little snips of memory, flashes and flickers sped through his mind. Never in chronological order, though; one flash was long after the invasion, another long before. Mixed in between were snippets of the actual calamity as it descended upon his part of the world.

"It didn't happen all at once, you know that right?" he asked. It was too late now…the pieces were realigning themselves. "We knew it was happening. They didn't attack Houston first. I didn't really know what was happening at the time; my parents wouldn't let me watch the news, but I remember hearing everyone talking about it and leaving…" David refused to break his gaze at the floor. Across from him, Mirage was now looking very intently at him.

"Jeb was there, though I don't remember why. Said we needed to leave. There was a lot of arguing…probably on where to go and how to get there. Then we were in the car, stuck in gridlock. Everyone was going to same way we were. We must've been stuck there for a day or so; a lot of people ran out of gas and started walking beside us." He paused for a moment, his brow furrowed. "Then everyone was running, screaming, dropping their bags. Jess started crying, and someone was screaming at everyone to get out. I was running between Jeb and Dad, and there was a boom. I got knocked down, then yanked back up."

He shook his head; the memories started to become blurry. "Couldn't see anything…there was a lot of smoke. I could hear something, a horrible noise; metal hitting against metal, and I couldn't hear Jess crying anymore. Then we were out of the smoke, but Mom and Jess were missing. Someone grabbed me…Jeb, and made me run. I started to struggle, trying to go after my father as he ran the other way." David brought a shaky hand over his face, and he had still not yet broken his stare at the floor. He fought back the stinging sensation in his nose and eyes, trying to blink it away.

"Everything gets too hazy after that. The only thing I can remember after all that was being with Jeb in the woods, with hundreds of other people, and Motormaster ambushing us. Then it gets dark again until I remember waking up at Marla's."

David let out a shuddering sigh and looked up. Devin was looking at him, all covered in grease with the large generator sitting in her lap. David wasn't sure how she had gotten that out without him even hearing her. Mirage was looking down, though he was still listening. The voices at the entrance of the warehouse began to fade as the crowd started to disperse.

"Satisfied?" David asked as he agitatedly rubbed the back of his neck. Devin said nothing as she lifted the generator for Mirage to take.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Happy New Year everyone!


	20. Make a Choice

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Transformers. All recognizable characters are the property of HasTak. All unrecognizable ones are the intellectual property of yours truly; their theft is punishable by severe voodoo-induced pain in any and all sensitive organs of the body, followed by eternal damnation.

Because, you know, stealing is wrong. (Which is funny because I totally ganked this disclaimer from Vaeru, with her permission of course.)**  
**

* * *

**Rated:** T. For mild cursing, violence, and other adult themes that will probably ensue.

**Author Notes:** Holy shit, an update!? Before you guys begin reading, I'd like to stop you for a moment to say something: You guys are really awesome. Within the last few months I've been receiving a lot of messages from numerous people saying very kind things about Contra and asking me not give up on it. And believe me, I would have had it not been for those messages. I had pretty much just given up on the story already but because of those really nice, really freaking awesome people, I am going to finish this. So for all of you who asked for it, this is for you. (And of course people like Vaeru and my other friends who pestered me for a long time. Love youuu!)

* * *

**Contra Mundum**

**Chapter Twenty**

* * *

_"Life is like an incessant series of problems, all difficult, with brutal choices, and a time limit. The worst thing you can do is to make no choice, waiting for the ideal conclusion to present itself."_

_**-Chapel, Trigun**_

_**

* * *

**_

"_Uh, boss?"_

"_What?"_

"_We've just received orders from the top. We're being instructed to leave."_

"_What?!"_

"_Like I said, orders from the top."_

"_We can't leave now! We've put too much time and energy into this dirtball."_

"_They say they've intercepted a report from the 'Bots. They know about this place now, and they're heading this way. Including the Prime. We don't have any support here anymore; we need to regroup."_

"_Shockwave left?"_

"_His ship just moved out."_

"_Hmph. And Prime is coming?"_

"_Yes."_

"_How long?"_

"_They should be here in about a deca-cycle. We should scat before then; it sounds like the whole faction is dropping trou here."_

"…"

"_Boss?"_

"_We'll leave before then. But I want that traitor's head on a pike greeting them when they get here."_

* * *

Despite winter's unwavering grasp over Oasis, there seemed to be a change in the air. The people were talking now, where before they only drudged through the gray cold days. They whispered to themselves, to their children, and to anyone else who would listen. They gossiped and debated over the Autobots occupying the warehouses in the mountain above them, like some bewildering Dracula locked away in his castle yet ever watching the town below. But the mechs' presence also sparked a renewal of hope and memory. Parents once again regaled children with tales of life before the invasion, and adults reminisced about their past lives as they staggered through the snow. In the course of human existence, fifteen years is not a long time. But it sure felt like it had been centuries since anyone in the settlement had experienced any creature comforts that were so common in the days before the world went to hell.

But the greatest surge of optimism came when Devin presented to Elliott a handful of prototypes modeled after Trailbreaker's shield generator and Mirage's cloaking device. Both were small enough to be held in one hand or strapped to a belt and performed the same abilities of their originals. Elliott hurriedly requested that more shield generators be made than cloaking devices and then sped off to play with his new toys. Word spread quickly, and soon Devin had more than a dozen volunteers offering their services towards the creation of more gadgets.

Within this newer and lighter atmosphere, however, there still lurked doubt. Irma had brought back her report to Oasis's council after her long painful chat with Jetfire, and while she admitted she did not like the Autobots very much, she affirmed to the others that they were not imposters.

"They consider Decepticons enemies. I hate to quote such an overused phrase, but any enemy of my enemy is my friend," she offered plainly to the rest of the council, which consisted of about two-dozen members.

"I don't exactly disagree with you, Irma," a member to her right started. "It's just that I would like to know more about their agenda. Are they going to leave after the Decepticons are forced out, or are they going to stay? What if we just go from one genocidal group of aliens to another?"

"Do we have a choice?" countered another member from the back of the room. "Our options are pretty limited at the moment."

"Could we even force the Autobots out at this point? We have them outnumbered, but they still have us out powered. We may very well be at their mercy."

Silence feel across the room as paranoia began to set into the room. There was no electricity in the small building the council held their meetings in, and the only light came from the small windows glassless near the entrance. Blue-gray beams of light filtered into the room, making the faces of the members appear sickly. It was cold, too; clouds of warm breath danced and swirled in the small space.

Irma sat on a low stool, her features shadowed by the standing figures standing around her. "There is nothing we can do right now. We cannot risk all the lives here. We must play along for now," she declared. A wave of discontented murmurs and shuffles sifted through the small crowd. "But it would be foolish to just blindly accept them as _some_ of us have. We must learn what we can from them and prepare ourselves for if they turn against us."

Another wave of murmurs rippled through the room but this time of approval.

* * *

Giant feathery snowflakes wafted down from the sky, lazily spiraling to the ground to coat the settlement below in flawless white. The snow covered the mud and grime, making Oasis look almost clean. David paused in his work to look at the sky – another colorless day. He began to wonder if the scenery ever changed with the seasons. Was there ever anything green here? Or was it all just perpetually brown, white, and gray? Then again the summers back home were always so intense they burned the life out of the vegetation, leaving only endless fields of dead grass.

Several humans were working around him, digging and hauling heaps of dirt and mud out of the earth. New shelters were being built while at the same time older ones were being repaired. The entire town was working vigorously in response to Jetfire's announcement the day before: after being attacked outside of Oasis by the Stunticons on their way in several days before, David and the Autobots had alerted them to the settlement's approximate location, and it would not be long until they would act. The Decepticons had never known Oasis's exact location since they never followed humans far into the mountains and because each settlement had an armada of scramblers set up around their perimeters. Jetfire also divulged that he was surprised they had not been attacked already and pressed that preparations be made as swift and efficient as possible.

The Autobots couldn't fight the Decepticons out in the forest again, as it was likely Motormaster was going to bring a few hundred drones to lend a helping hand. It was reluctantly decided that the most strategic position was Oasis itself; however, there were several problems with the location. It was positioned in the middle of a large valley on the edge of a mountain slope. The uneven ground might be an advantage, but it was very open. The Autobots would be forced to attack from its center for fear of Stunticons circling around and coming in through the sides of the mountain. But the mechs had the humans' cooperation now – which they would certainly need if backup didn't arrive before the Stunticons did - and they both worked day and night for weeks as they tried to make their position as advantageous as possible. Every day was nerve-racking, for every moment both Autobot and human expected the full fury of the Stunticons to burst from the forest and rain down upon them.

David and Hound helped prepare shelters deep underground, while Devin and Mirage constructed large shield generators that were to be placed strategically around the edges of the settlement. They would not form a complete bubble but it would be enough to shield both mechs and humans from excessive gunfire. EMP bombs were dug into the snow in the valley; far enough to slow down attackers but far enough to not hinder defenders.

Elliott oversaw the construction and distribution of human weaponry since there had been a surprising flood of volunteers to aid in the oncoming fight. So many people were burning to take any potshots they could at the Stunticons, but Elliott had to turn away numerous people who were either too young or too old. Magnesium blades, EMP grenades, and guns strong enough to pierce Decepticon armor were passed around to as many able open hands as possible. Materials and metal for weapons and armor were stripped from structures and homes as the young, the old, and the sick began to move underground into the new shelters. Those who did not want to stick around to see the outcome of the showdown gathered in groups and left to seek haven in the next nearest settlement or beyond. At the same time there was an influx of people from those settlements bringing supplies and offering their services.

The Autobots helped with whatever they could, but as the days dragged on, David began to notice a slack in their enthusiasm. They were becoming sluggish, and David wasn't sure if his eyes were playing tricks on him, but the color of their paint seemed to be fading too.

Finally he confronted Jetfire on the issue.

"We are all suffering from energon deprivation. We haven't had any since we first landed on Earth," the jet explained, his vocalizer crackling softly as he spoke. The large mech was sitting on the ground near the warehouse and his body language was eerily similar to someone dealing with an extremely bad hangover.

"'Energon deprivation'?" David asked bemusedly, "That burning pink stuff? You guys _eat_ that?" The human failed in trying to keep the sound of horrified awe out of his voice.

"I wouldn't say we 'eat' it, but yes," Jetfire answered heavily, "Energon was a natural resource on our planet. When it was all consumed, we had to learn how to make it ourselves and to conserve it. Our bodies are built to endure long periods of time without it but we have our limits. I have a small emergency supply with us, but I do not think it will help at this point. I should have figured we would be here longer than just a few days like we originally planned."

David frowned. "You've gone an entire month without any sort of nourishment? I was thinking that, I dunno, maybe you guys were solar powered or something."

"That is why the Decepticons invaded your planet," explained the jet, "Even though the natural energon on our planet disappeared, we found ways to convert various forms of energy to make more energon. Most other planets we've encountered can only yield one source of energy or are too hostile to be useful."

The scientist pointed to the sky, "Take your sun for example. A small sample of its plasma could probably provide enough converted energon to sustain half a faction for at least deca-cycle."

"I don't know how long that is," David said sounding like Jetfire was trying to explain a very complex math equation to him. Judging by the way the Autobot emphasized the word "deca-cycle" it must have been a decent amount of time.

"But we can't make use of the plasma since our technology can't stand up to the intense heat," Jetfire continued, ignoring the human's interjection, "What we've been able to glean from Decepticon reports is that Earth just seems to be endless in ways to make energon: Wave energy, solar and wind energy, geothermic energy. The list is quite extensive. And not only that, but each medium yields an unusual abundance of energon."

_That must've been why Houston of all places was one of the first to be hit by the Stunticons in the beginning,_ thought David. He knew that all the oil refineries that were already there had been altered by the Decepticons to make energon but they probably were only put in use during the hurricane season. The city had unknowingly provided them with a great convenience.

"So you and the others can't function at all without energon? We could be attacked at any minute and we'll need you to be alert and ready!" David exclaimed.

"Unless there is energon here or a means to make it…"

"Wait here," David said and took off down the mountain path at a run. He weaved in and out through the crowd below, too focused to feel any anxiety from them as he searched frantically for Elliott's face. He passed some of the other Autobots in his search, all of which showed fatigue similar to Jetfire. Even Bluestreak was silent.

He found the older man standing under a tarp next to a small group of people with a small firearm in his hand. Elliott was in the middle of a weapon demonstration when David clapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey there!" chirped Elliott merrily.

"We have a problem," David started, but paused to catch his breath. Cold air burned his lungs as he wheezed, "Jetfire and the others, they're all fatigued. He says they need energon"

"And what is that?" the other man asked sparing a glance to the small crowd in front of him.

"Maybe you've seen it before; it's that bright pink fluid that burns like hells if you touch it. You probably don't have any but if you have anything else that could—"

"Is that what that stuff is called? Well, aren't you in luck!" Elliott laughed. "I bet if you had gone to any other settlement you'd have been SOL."

David cocked an eyebrow at the other man. He didn't expect to actually get any energon, he was just hoping for some kind of extremely potent gasoline or find some strange half-concocted gadget that could create energon. Elliott directed the people around him towards various tasks then put down his firearm. He looked over his shoulder and motioned David to follow him. They walked away from the tarp and through the crowded streets back towards the warehouses. They crossed paths with Sunstreaker on their way and Elliott hailed to him,

"Hey big guy, can you tell the other bots to meet us at the warehouse?" The warrior did not respond to the man, but he and David walked on assuming that the message had been passed on. The two continued up the dirt path and found Jetfire still sitting by the entrance and stood to his side.

"See that big pile of crap?" Elliott said, pointing to all the crates and all the other various things pushed against the far wall. "We've got several barrels underneath all that scrap chock full of energon."

In his exhaustion, Jetfire still managed to look surprised. "How did you get it?"

"A couple of refugees brought it in with them several years ago," explained Elliott. "Said they ambushed some droids and found it. They figured we might be able to use it in some way against the 'Cons. We tried for a long time to do something useful with it, but after years of just constantly burning ourselves, we just stuck it in here n' left it."

The other Autobots arrived just then, and Trailbreaker helped steady Jetfire as he wobbled to his feet. The scientist lurched forward and navigated his way to the back of the warehouse, sidestepping around David's little "habitat" as Sunstreaker liked to call it.

Jetfire kneeled at the edge of the massive heap at the end of the room and began to gently push items aside. Hound soon joined him, and it was not long until they found six big black drums neatly packed into a square near the wall.

The jet reached out and gingerly picked one up. He rocked it back and forth, and while there came no sounds of liquid sloshing back and forth, he still smiled. "It _is_ energon." Almost immediately the other Autobots swarmed around him, thrilled to hear even the word.

"I don't believe it! They have some here of all places!"

"I didn't want to say anything, but I thought we were going to die before the Stunts even showed up."

"These monkeys _are_ good for something!"

* * *

"_Dammit_! Why does it have to be this cold?"

Hound and Mirage looked towards the strange sight of their human friend on the floor, wrapped in a thick cocoon of several blankets and curled into a shivering ball.

"You're not used to it? You haven't adapted to your own planet's climate?" asked Mirage as he tinkered with some of his handgun, scraping out bits of dirt and wiping away smudges.

David fumed from under his insulated shell, "The climate isn't the same everywhere. I've adapted to live in heat, not in cold!"

"It doesn't really heat my oil either," Hound admitted. "Course I didn't enjoy bein' cooked in the open air back where we found you either."

The human nodded at this. "Sometimes it's a bit much. But I'd take it over snow any day." He curled into himself tighter and sighed, trying to lull himself to sleep as the two mechs sitting near him busied themselves even on their downtime. They had all been working almost nonstop, and David had not slept in almost two days. The Autobots took turns in everything: while one patrolled, another helped carry supplies to and fro, two helped with building, and two rested. Their shifts lasted a little over twenty-four hours, and during their free time they were free to do as they liked, but they usually continued to work if they could. David began to feel that this was probably how they would be acting if they were in their element, whether that was in a bunker on some far away planet or drifting through empty space on a ship.

He began to speculate what other Autobots were like, though the thought had really been on his mind ever since Jetfire informed him that more would be arriving soon (David had yet to tell Irma or anyone else of this news). Judging from the Autobots he did know, whose personalities were all so different from each other, he came to the conclusion that the arriving mechs would be just as diverse. He prayed to not encounter another moody warrior such as the one he was familiar with.

_What are they going to do when they get here?_ The question sparked to life and began to burn in the man's mind like a hot iron. David understood why Jetfire was calling reinforcements but were they just going to pack up everything and leave? What would he do if they did? Surely he could not go with them…

His mind halted as a sinking dread bled through his thoughts – oh God, he would miss them. David flipped himself around on the floor, tossing onto his stomach and burying his head in the blankets. (The Autobots in front of him ignored the display, as they had grown used to his restless sleeping habits.) How could he possibly feel that way? There was no way he could have grown that used to the mechs' presence during their short time together, and yet there was the evidence tapping on the walls of his conscience.

The human abruptly flopped himself onto his back and sprang up from the floor, tearing the blankets away from his body in a far too aggressive fashion. This time Hound and Mirage did stare at the man. David snapped his head in their direction and awkwardness fell between them while he continued to wrestle with his internal conflictions and the two mechs waited for some sort of explanation.

"I'm going for a walk!" David said a little too loudly.

"Are you alright?" queried the racecar.

"Your opti—er, eyes are, uh, lookin' a little funny," said Hound.

"I'm fine! I just need a walk!" exclaimed the man. He made to step over towards the warehouse exit but only managed to trip over a tangled blanket, barely catch himself, then briskly walked out into the cold night air.

David figured the best way to cure his newly discovered affection would be to reacquaint himself with humanity, and he set off down the dark mountain path with just that in mind. From the side of the mountain he could see numerous lights in the valley below as people continued to dig, work, and prepare. Biting back the cold, he wandered out into the corridors and walkways of Oasis and tried to calm his racing mind. It proved to be rather pointless as his anxiety began to rise the more crowded the streets became.

There was a small glint of familiarity in the darkened sea of faces, and David felt relieved at the sight of Elliott standing in front of the entrance to an underground shelter in the process of being built. David pushed his way forward and for once was going to greet to other man in a jovial manner…but didn't.

Elliott stood motionless, watching as men and women shoveled pile after pile of dirt and snow out of the shelter. Tossed slush splayed across the ground in all directions, soaking into shoes and pant legs. Elliott had a dire look on his face; his eyes were focused, and a fine crease sat across his brow as he stared forward lost in thought. He didn't even seem to notice David walking up and standing next to his side. The two stood together in silence for a while, and just when David was deciding that maybe the Autobots _were_ better company, Elliott spoke,

"We can't keep people here."

David looked out onto the massive dirt pile in front of him. "We'll just start a new—"

"No," interjected Elliott. "We can't keep them _here,_ in this settlement. All the people we've been sending underground need to be moved to Endicott, tonight."

David blinked. "Why?"

"We've stripped all the buildings and the shelters of metal to make armor and guns. There's nothing left to reinforce the underground walls; it'll only take one well-aimed blast to cave it all in," Elliott hissed, keeping his voice low to avoid the attention of the workers. "Hell, it might even fall through if one of the 'Bots take a tumble on it."

A familiar sinking feeling began to grow in David's stomach. "But we can't send a bunch of old and sick people off by themselves, and we can't spare anyone here to guide them. They should have left with the others. Why didn't you say something sooner?" he scolded.

"I didn't know everything was being built half-assed!"

"Well, no wonder this place became a total shithole!" David yelled in mixture of aggravation and frustration. Nothing ever seemed to go smoothly in this place. Oasis was goddamed unsmoothable.

"I know," Elliott admitted painfully and hung his head in his hand. "We're all tired and cold and hungry. God knows it's been like this for years now, and I should have foreseen this, but I didn't really think your friends would choose this spot of all places to have a slugfest."

The younger man unconsciously tugged at his hair. "'My' friends…" he murmured. It was the best they could do to fight in Oasis. There was fear that since the Stunticons knew the settlement's whereabouts they would attack without mercy if the Autobots went elsewhere.

_If I had just gone and taken back Jeb's scanners… _The thought raked across David's mind over and over again like nails on a chalkboard. Hundreds, if not thousands, might die now because of his neglect. There had to be a way to make the situation right; there had to be more he could do to protect these people he could barely even stand.

The man's head suddenly sprang up, eyes wide as an idea sparked to life. He leaned to look around Elliott, who still held his hand to his forehead. He narrowed his eyes in the dark, trying to make out the details of the tree line in the distance.

"Can you use the trees to reinforce the walls in the shelters?"

Elliott popped his head up. "…I am such an _idiot_." He swiveled around to follow David's gaze. "I can't believe I didn't think of that! And people entrust their lives to _me_!"

"I don't."

"Go find Hound or Trailbreaker or whoever! We'll be able to chop down twice as many trees than we would by ourselves," Elliott said excitedly as hope flooded back into his dirt-covered face. "They might not hold up to a direct blast, but at least they won't cave in at the first sign of trouble."

He reached out to his left and began to draw away men and women from their work. He beckoned them to follow then turned to see David still standing in the same spot.

"Hurry up!" Elliott urged, jolting the other man into action.

David barreled over huge piles of dirt and narrowly missed colliding into a woman with a wheelbarrow. His fatigue faded as he ran and headed for the woods on the other side of the settlement. Trailbreaker would be most useful for the job, and tonight it was his turn to scout out in the forest.

* * *

_Incoming transmission. Sender: Autobot, Jetfire._

"_Hey, haven't heard from yer lot for a while. Smokescreen's got a pool goin' on whether or not you've all been slagged."_

"_What's your ETA?"_

"_Judgin' from the planet's specs you sent, in a solar cycle or two. Won't be long now."_

"_Good. I'm going to need help breaking the news."_

"_Fun times all around, my friend. Sounds like a real party buildin'."_

"_Party, yea. We had to share some of our technology with them, just in case the Stunticons wage an attack before your arrival. Jazz, this will not be easy."_

"_Noted."_

"_You'll need to download the language files for English before landing…probably Spanish, too. Trust me." _

_Transmission terminated. _

_Incoming direct link from Autobot, Jetfire. _

_Initializing download._

_

* * *

_**Author's Notes Continued: **There is some discrepancy over how much a deca-cycle actually is. According to Transformers Wiki, it's either a year or three weeks. I'm going to go ahead and say it's three weeks for Contra.


End file.
